Breaking all the Rules
by wildchild911
Summary: Soul eater Evans is an undercover cop living in modern day chicago, Wanted by women and envied by men this bachelor follows his own rules, until an old partner and certian father asks him to look after his teenage daughter,Can Soul resist temptantion?
1. Breaking all the rules

**Sup Peeps its meh WILDCHILD911 w/ another story, hahahahaaaa ur all gonna kill me aren't u? xD I apologize for not updating on other stories but I'm getting there, at dead snails pace, but I AM getting their!! oh and by the by, their will be lemons in later chappies, first i have to get the romance started! x3!!well I hope you enjoy this little slice of pie ;D**

Maka: 17

Soul: 25

thats an 8 yr age difference :P well enyjoy!

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Rain coated downtown Chicago, leaving the city cold and dreary. Like it was attempting to wash away the "stains" that littered the city, but it failed miserably. It was 6 P.M. as a cop car came blazing down Lake Shore drive, the sirens silent, with no particular destination. An albino haired man rolled down his window and tossed his finished cigarette out the window, getting ready to light another.

He dug into his pocket, found the box and flipped it open, only to discover it was empty.

"Shit" he coursed as he rummaged through the glove compartment to find another pack of cigs. He swore again, nope none.

"Damn, shit outta luck" The 25 year old detective glared at the road, completely pissed. _guess __I have to ask Black Star for another box . . . again_. He shook off the urge to find the nearest 7/11; he memorized every drug store's location from Norwood Park to South Chicago. Deciding to distract himself, the young investigator leered at the window and was face to face with a wall with frigid rain. He got a clear view of Lake Michigan and some really stupid –and probably stoned beyond recognition- teenagers deciding to "take a dip".

"Well, better add those two to the morgue" He snorted. It would be at least 20 more minutes until he reached the station, then he could finally go home and crash. He reached a stoplight, just a little bit longer- as soon as he pressed on the brake pedal a red van came blazing through the intersection a few meters ahead of him .

"This day just keeps getting better and better" the detective smirked as if he were out for blood, shifted into drive, and took off. Since he was out of cigs, he would take his frustration out on the morons in the engine red van. What could he say? He needed his 6 o'clock smoke.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~ 30minutes later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The fresh detective ambled through the front doors of the station, earning many swooning gasps from fellow lady officers. As he passed a small group dames gathered down the hall, the White haired bachelor flashed a sexy grin making his jagged fangs gleam in the florescent lighting.

"Hey ladies" His ego was boosted a few pegs as the women squealed and giggled. He suddenly heard a thud; his smirk returned, apparently one of the girls had fainted. With his shoulders slouched forward, the "sexiest man in Chicago's west and south side" trudged advanced, aiming for his department. He moderately pushed through the doors of the bustling office, with convicts planted on maple chairs, anticipating being placed into a potential cell. The albino passed by several familiar looking boys (the kids in the van). He paused and decided to enjoy the moment.

"long time no see boys-" He glared down his newest arrest 'victims' his eyes sparkling an extremely sadistic gleam " –I hope that you enjoy your stay at Pilsen county police station" The set of four glared up at him, some told him to shut up, one said 'what are you lookin at?', and the last and shortest kid (A.K.A little Napoleon) commented on his crappy driving skills. The detective shrugged off the irritating comment and decided to leave them alone on the "chairs of shame". He turned only to say At least I wouldn't have been caught' thus having 'Little Napoleon' rush into a fit of rage with the rest of his followers throwing names and enticing comments, all the while Soul proceeded toward his desk. The male flopped down onto his comfy seat and crossed his legs on the top of it, making several pieces of paper work scatter to the floor.

"Well look what the cat dragged in" Soul looked up with his lazy stare, yet another smirk spread across his chin.

"Speak for yourself, Black star" the ecstatic officer's face bloomed with confidence, while his hands rested on his hips; Aka the pose of victory. Black star slumped over in his desk still facing Soul.

"heard what'cha did near Lake Drive, nicely done by the way, but not as good as the amazing m-"

"-okay I get it and thanks, I'm just waiting for Stephanie to hand in the last piece of paper work, then I'm done" Soul returned to his usual position with his feet on the desk, leaning back in his cushioned chair, and his hands behind his head. Seeming very content and proud of himself.

"damn . . . you got the ladies drooling all over you huh? You lucky little fucker" Black Star mumbled, slightly jealous on his fellow officer's popularity, grinning through it all. Soul caught onto His friend's distress, motioned him to scoot over, and whispered in his ear.

"I have them eating out of the palm of my hand" Apparently he was named hottest man on the west side, no women no matter what age could ever resist his . . . "charm".

Black star punched Soul in the shoulder while gritting his teeth, Soul hissed then hit him back, while throwing some verbal threats. The two five year olds bickered and squabbled, completely oblivious to a certain brunette approaching Soul's desk. Stephanie arrived right on time with paper work galore and more, she stopped and let loose at least 2/3rds of the stack on "Mr. Popular's" desk. She rolled her eyes as she was completely ignored by both ignorant males while they continued their "Manliness" contest. Not wanting to break it up the juvenile argument, she strutted off in her navy blue pencil skirt and cream blouse, to the chief's office. Soul was unaware of a classic white envelope that was placed on the top of the paper mountain, a letter that would soon change his life forever.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 46 minutes later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Soul growled at the finally finished Mt Everest of classified files that was now signed, completed, and ready to turn into the chief, now the old man would leave him the hell alone. Soul's eyes followed to the clock it was 7:01, configurating that he had stayed far too long. He shifted to his left to find Black Star nowhere in sight _the lucky_ _little ass, _it was official Soul Eater Evans had officially reached a level of boredom that could escalate to suicide.

While Soul fantasized taking his pistol, putting it to his head, and pulling the trigger, he slouched back in the chair and proceeded to crack his back, neck, and muscular shoulders. He acknowledged another piece of bleached white paper on his clean table space, thus discovering the letter. He picked it up and held it up to the light, carefully translating the writing on the front. His eyes twitched from shock and dread.

"You've got to be kidding me . . . "Soul sighed as his blood red stare traced the hand writing.

"From Spirit Albarn . . huh?" This was rare, getting a contact from his old partner, scratch that _**ancient**_ partner. After the old man retired no one really saw him, but that didn't keep him from calling the office asking if the "rookie" (Aka albino shark boy) hadn't killed himself yet? You could tell they didn't really see eye to eye. Especially the "errands" Spirit made him run.

_What the fuck does this guy want me to do now? _

He could just picture it now, the bars with his partner half drunk, or in some god forsaken warehouse with thugs saying that he owned them money. While He could feel a migraine approach, Soul noticed a small sentence at the bottom left hand corner of the envelope. _Read this when you get home . . . . . What the-._ Soul grunted then started burning wholes through the ceiling. The detective had, had enough; he motioned to stand, pealing his butt off of the appliance. _Damn, sat in the chair for too long it molded into the cushions._Once his bum was completely detached from the chair Soul snagged his black leather jacket and keys.

"Night Harvey" Soul mumbled to the night janitor, Harvey smiled in return while he vacuumed the carpet. Soul buried the letter in his pocket as he trotted toward his dirty orange Harley. The bike spat and roared down the streets and echoed in the alley ways, as Soul thundered through intersections, red lights, under Bridges, and L train tracks.

He turned into a skinny alley where he parked his bike in a small garage. The tired cop trudged up the wooden steps till the third floor. He scavenged his pockets until he found the keys, unlocked his front door and stumbled inside.

He studied his living room before he tore off his leather jacket and threw it on the couch. Soul grumbled as he aimed for the fridge. To his total despair, Black Star didn't give him a pack of cigs or the money he needed to buy them. Soul wouldn't receive a check for a few more days; Pay check wasn't due until next week.

He snagged a Corona beer from the back of the fridge and popped the cap. After his retrieval, Soul's attention went back toward the letter in his jean pocket. The detective once again went on the hunt for something lost within his baggy faded navy blue jeans. Once he pulled out the letter he ripped the envelope with a pocket knife, and unfolded its contents.

_Dear Soul a.k.a. rookie, _

_Sorry I haven't popped my head in the office to see how things are going, but I haven't seen your ass on the news for going postal in a liquor store or finding out from the chief that you knock some girl up-_

"you haven't changed a bit you old asswhole, I'm not like you by the way, I use a condom" the exhausted cop barked, still sipping his beer.

_-well, I'm in a bit of a bind, I slept with a mob bosses girl, soo I've gone into hiding in Mexico-,_

Soul couphed as he choked on his corona **oh god, thats the worst place to hide you stupid old man.**

_-Soo I need to ask you for a favor, partner to partner. _

Soul leaned back against the small table in his kitchen facing parallel to the fridge. Then the door bell rang. Soul placed the letter down on the table next to the salt and pepper shakers and continued his way to the door.

_You know my daughter right?-_

He unlocked the archway and pulled it open with his right elbow leaning against the doorframe holding still holding his half drunken beer bottle.

"Sorry wrong-" No one was in front of him until he heard a slight cough. Then he looked down. His mouth fell wide open. Standing before him was a short blonde girl (in pig tails) wearing a white sweatshirt with "London" in Navy blue etched into it, accompanied by black leggings hugging her long slender legs, and a pair of cream colored converse. The mystery chick was carrying a black backpack, a yellow duffle bag, and a blue suit case. His crimson met her clover green, just for a moment. This girl couldn't be older than 14, what the hell? Most of the women that showed up to his door were harlots, and well into their twenties to late thirties, _**who in the ever living hell **_ordered the midget- Then it clicked.

"Soul eater Evans right?"

The bachelor said nothing; His nerve endings were going numb in disbelief.

"I'm Maka Albarn, I guess I'm staying with you know . . . ."

_-Well, I need you to look after her while I'm in hiding, at least 'till this all blows over. Thanks I owe you! oh and by the way if you even think about touching my precious baby girl, I __**will**__ track you down, cut off your dick, sew it back on, then rip it off again *smiley face*_

_~ Spirit Albarn_

_**You mean I have to board with this titless little girl?!**_

Soul remained absolutely appalled while he stared agape at the young woman just a foot away. The girl snorted as she noted that his eyes were dwarfing the sun's perimeter.

"You've got to be kiddin' me!!!!"

* * *

**heheheeee silly Soul, you should have read the rest of the letter xD hahahaaa I'm going to Hell aren't I? oh well I hope they have internet down their! oh curse you brain for discovering this little fic and curse you phalanges for putting it into writing . But yes I love you all (especially those who review!! ;D**

**sooo see the pretty button at the bottom of the screen? well if you press It, I WILL GIVE U A COOKIE!!!! =D**


	2. yes or no?

**Hahahahahaaaa I'm _realllly_going to hell now, aren't i? i promised that I'd upload two weeks ago . . . . well that failed miserably didn't it!? so i totally apologize for not sticking to my dead line, and my third chapter will probibly be up in a day or two (that I'm sure of! xD) So yeah, sup Its me again Wildchild911 and heres another instalment of Breaking all da rules! ;3 **

**and BTW i don't own Soul Eater, which just proves beggers can't be fricken choosers, now can they? :P**

**enjoy kiddies~**

* * *

Soul eater Evans Face palmed, as the writing derived from the letter was permanently etched into his brain. After memorizing Spirit Albarn's hand writing –all the way to how he crossed his T's and doted his I's- Soul's forehead collided with the 2 person taborate. The girl apparently known as Maka Albarn was now standing in the direct center of his living room, with her bags stationed at her feet. Soul 'hid' in the kitchen frantically trying to finagle his way out of this predicament, constantly glancing back and forth from his "death certificate" then to Blondie a few feet away. He discovered that arguing with this chick was like repeatedly kicking yourself in the balls; no matter what you do your chances of winning would be in the single digits, your pride would be out the window, and you'd just end up hurt!_, _Soul grumbled random swears in every ethnic group possible. Rubbing his eyes in total frustration as the past 10 minutes replayed like a slide show within his subconscious.

"_YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING MEEE!!"_

_Mystery teen just cocked an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. _

"_No, I'm not kidding you, but can you please stop yelling. I don' think your neighbors will appreciate the noise"_

_Soul ignored the comment. He studied the "thing" that had magically appeared on his door step. He shook off the shock, and tried to look professional. It was time to get down to business._

"_Okay, why are you here?" Soul flinched at the unnecessary question. __**WHY was she **__**here?!!- NO SHIT dumb-ass?!**__ Maka's eyebrows rose a few inches then sank back down. _

"_You read the letter . . . right?" Soul jerked his head and nodded, He really needed some sleep. _

"_Okay-stupid-question, but do you have any other place to sta-"  
_

"_Nope" His left eye twitched . . For the third time in a row, __**this girl really rehearsed her lines**__._

"_Any other relativ-"_

"_Either Living in Europe or dead" __**She doesn't mince her words either**__. Soul had a feeling, just by the look in her eyes that this girl was going to be one tuff little chestnut to crack, it didn't faze him, all it did was pose a well needed challenge. Now the war began. _

"_Where's your mom?"_

"_Gone"_

"_Gone? Where?!" _

"_Two words, nasty divorce" _

"_Okay can't really compete with that- how 'bout-"_

"_-Friends? Can't; I personally don't want to see their 'mysterious' murders displayed on Fox news, do you?" _

_**Yep just like kicking yourself in the nuts**__._

"_. . . . Touché, what about-"_

"_Nope" _

"_. . . . What the- you have no idea what I was going to say!!" _

"_Precisely, thus my answer is no" __**Damn. **__Soul was at his wits end with this one, she was good. _

"_Just what I need, a frickin' lawyer" He Face palmed as he scowled. _

"_What was that?" Maka cringed from the insult; she was exercising extreme measures not to reach into her backpack and magically pull a 10 inch thick "weapon of mass destruction" that could make a possible mini-model of the Grand Canyon, in the man's skull. That restraint was shrinking pretty fast. _

"_Nothing. Uh . . . what 'bout goin to the cops?"_

"_Why do you think I'm standing in front of you right now?" __**Dumb-ass much?**_

_She wore the most deviant fake smile at that very moment; it made Soul want to rip it clean off her pretty face. This girl was the devil incarnate, thee legit Satan Lucifer HIMSELF! _

"_How old are you anyway?!"  
_

"_17"_

_Soul gazed agape once again at the thing before him. Well now he knew he wasn't rooming with a junior high kid. Now he was dealing with a whole new breed, the kind he absolutely despised. High schoolers. Hell, most of the criminals he arrested were in their freshman to senior year, so he understood how stupid this specific breed of teen saw the world. But at least she wasn't 5, that was where he drew the line. _

_After maybe 30 seconds of weighing his options- and trying to salvage the remains of his now bruised and broken pride- he snagged her canary yellow duffle bag and threw it into the apartment. He moved to the side and flung the door wide open, whilst forever scowling at her, like a five year old that lost a game of tag. Taking the hint, Maka gripped the handle of her suit case and hesitantly walked through the archway. Once she was inside, Soul Eater Evans peeked his head through the door frame, making sure that no one saw the little scene. Figuring that the cost was clear, he groaned, shut, and locked the door._

Back in the present, Maka was silently probing her new environment, testing how "livable" the dinky apartment could be for a "family of two". She guest-a-mated that the living room was 12 ft wide by 16 ft long but most of it was just empty area. The space was broken into two segments; the larger section was circular with a brown spotted leather couch and a lazy boy layered under several scratchy multicolored blankets –the ones you would find at flea markets- against a wall facing her, complete with a 63in plasma flat screen T.V. (another guess) just to her left. The smaller section was a rectangular shape with yet another couch resting against the same wall facing in her direction and toward the kitchen door. A narrow door way that separated the two sections was parallel to her as well, probably leading to the bath and bedroom. Every wall was an egg shell white, plain, boring, had nothing hanging from them, and to top it all off, a dead plant that occupied the far left corner rooted next to the lazy boy. It wasn't exactly the ideal home, but at least there was a roof.

_  
I guess this is my home now . . . _

Her train of thought was destroyed when she noticed footsteps approaching from the kitchen. Soul paused a few feet away while scratching the back of his head. He had no choice, Spirit sent his one and only child to stay with someone he knew would take care of her, which meant the old Lech trusted him. She was already in the house anyway, why throw her out now? Yep there was no other option.

"well I guess you can sleep on one of the couches, down that hall on the right is the toilet, on the left is my room, you go in there and I _**will**_ throw you out - ex partners daughter or not- so for the record you've been warned"

Maka rolled her eyes for the millionth time, walked past him, and dropped her luggage against the make shift bed, plopping them on the floor. Soul's lazy scowl was burning wholes in Maka's neck and face.

"You have any extra blankets or Sheets?" Soul pointed toward the closet that was conveniently squeezed between his lair and the bathroom.

"Yeah, knock yourself out" Maka advanced to the closet tugging on a pair of powder blue sheets, as Soul studied her luggage. Once she had made her "bed", He made his leave. His genetic defying eyes snaked themselves around her figure, investigating her form. His hands molded against the brass knob connected to the forbidden door leading to Soul's half of the residence.

"You know where the kitchen is, so-"He opened the door slowly, still griping the handle.

"If you need anythin' else, just call" He was about to shut the door when he heard a voice.

"Soul?" irritated, his face became distorted in another scowl

"What?" He couldn't see her face through her hair but it felt like-

"Thank you" His scowl disappeared, his eyes shot down to the ground, concentrating on the orange stained maple flooring.

"You're welcome" As he shut the door he shook his head. He swore it felt like she was about to cry.

Once Maka heard the door shut and listened to the familiar creak from old bed springs, did she find the light switch and flick it off. It was 11:07 as she tucked herself into the unfamiliar smell and feeling of another's house, a complete stranger on top of that. Even her own pillow didn't feel the same, none of this –even the atmosphere- seemed welcoming or "home like" to her at all.  
The windows above the off gray couch gave her a clean picture of neighboring apartments and back yards. The moon was full and shone down through the window pane, making shadows dance in the now silent and lonely "home". As Maka curled up into a tight ball she felt two tears slide down her cheeks, while her eyes -heavy with exhaustion- drifted closed. She tugged the two heavy quilts past her shoulders, finally drifted into sleep. She just hoped that tonight, she'd have good dreams.

* * *

**well their you go! the next chappie will be up soon (I hope) but their will be a lemon later,definite promise! but this chap was kind of rushed and I'm not too proud of it, but hey thats me! well now see the little pretty button at the bottom, of da screeen??!!**

**HMMM!? well if you choose to press it I'll give you a cookie =3!! NOM NOM NOM! x3333**


	3. Welcome to Hell

**well guys waz up! :D i told ya'll i'd update soon ;D so please enjoy this little slice of pie xD**

**et BTW im wildchild911 and i don't own SOUL EATER, that just proves that beggers can't be choosers, now can they :P**

**~well enjoy kiddies nya**

* * *

This was hell, Soul was sure, thee exact definition. This girl was completely unpredictable, like a rabbis-infected lion that hadn't been fed for sixteen years, or she could just be on constant P.M.S. He didn't know nor did he care, all that he could articulate was that it meant trouble for his rapidly elevating blood pressure and his bullied skull.

They had been fighting nonstop for three whole days. From the lack of food in the fridge to how he kept his damn home! She was worse than having his own mother over to bitch at him. To make matters worse, Chief shinigami ordered him to stay home due to how long he "punched the clock", saying that he needed a "break" or "time to relax" Soul just thought he wanted him to stop due to not wanting to pay for overtime. The cop lay bored and seemingly fat, as his body integrated itself into the beaten and battered lazy boy. He flipped through random channels trying to find a movie or anything that would distract him, or halt him from committing suicide through total boredom. Soul's head tilted to the left and listened to the shower head hiss, knowing just who occupied his bathroom. He sneered then snapped back to his flat screen, now completely engrossed in finding a good channel. He remembered -and felt- the arguments that had been screamed at minutes before.

_The sun's rays broke through the windows of the living room filling it to the brim with light, Much to Maka's displeasure. Desperate to try and hide from the burning brightness, the girl flipped over and buried herself further into the three blankets- wait three?_

_Finally realizing that sleep wasn't going to return the 17 year old rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up. Her irises dilated from the sudden exposure to sunlight, they snapped shut and her hand flew up to rub her eyes out of habit. Maka paused noticing that her eyes felt puffy and her pillows baby blue cover was stained with several tear marks. Ignoring the stains she shifted to sit up, an old bears quilt slid from her thin shoulders, but there was a problem with this particular situation- That wasn't there before! The last time she checked blankets couldn't move, or crawl onto someone at their own will. Maka snapped back to her pillow, then at the blanket, having her fingers glide against the bone just below her eye. _

_Don't tell me?! Did he see me-?!!!!OH FOR THE LOVE OF JESUS CHRIST PLEASE LET THAT BE A NO! _

_Her Panicked ranting was halted by the familiar hiss of a shower head. Maka turned toward the archway leading to the "forbidden layer" and the now occupied bathroom, she sighed then slid her feet off the couch. Her toes stung as they graced the cold flooring, her feet withstood her drowsy form while they made their way to the kitchen. Her stomach growled and threatened to implode unless it was filled with food, preferably an omelet with a ton of onions and Tabasco sauce. _

_While she hummed, content of her choices for her meal, her delicate hand gripped the fridge handle. Meanwhile, as the now fully awake cop scrubbed his scalp, an angry shriek broke his peaceful morning ritual. Soul growled, annoyed that his morning was ruined by a certain "midget". Well he might as well see what was wrong, he was finished anyway. _

_Maka was dumbfounded by the fridge's contents. The only 'things' that survived within, were two 6 packs of spatten beer, one bottle of corona, 3 bottles of water and a left over pizza from Lumalnatti's Soul trudged through the kitchen door in the same exact pair of Kevin Klein's he wore yesterday, topless, a white towel slung over his shoulders, and was scratching the inside of his right ear. _

"_Ooooiiiii, it's too early to be screamin' so zip it will ya?" _

"_Speak for yourself, arrogant ass" Maka snapped only to be faced with Mr. topless, Her face bloomed to a shade that matched her new caretaker's irises and tore her face away from his *ahem* "godly" figure._

"_Put a shirt on, for Christ sakes!" Soul caught on, and decided to play a little bit. He just found a new toy. _

"_What's the matter?-" He stalked toward the now extremely lost girl, in the lowest and sexiest voice he could create. Still blushing like a raspberry, Maka reached for a "weapon" while she was being backed into a corner. The ego soaring idiot had no idea of his impending doom; he stopped an inch away literally 'raping' Maka's personal bubble space. _

"_-Like what you see?" and with that, he found himself on the floor in immense pain while gripping his skull. Above him the teenager branded a dictionary that was at least a foot in a half thick, leering down at his form. _

_**Congrats Dumbass! You've just experienced your first Maka chop-**_

"_Usually I warn people but it seemed like your 'planet dwarfing' ego could take it . . . apparently not" _

_Soul rubbed his head several times, Growled with a vengeance, and stood to his full height. Maka snorted, He was trying to salvage his pride by sizing her up. __**Well aren't you just precious, I wish I had my video camera to remember this moment . . . . And update my YouTube account. I can see it now, "cop having the crap beaten out of him by little girl" or just "cop got owned!" haa pricless.**_

"_what in the ever living hell, WAS THAT FOR?!!" __**-AND WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU PULL THAT BOOK FROM?!**_

"_ahh quit your bitching, you're a man aren't you?" Maka pushed past him, aiming and snagged a fresh batch of clothes. Soul looked like he was going to commit murder, he was positive that the majority of society didn't prefer to be hit with a 2 ton dictionary at 7:33 in the morning, at least the higher majority. _

"_Just be happy I didn't kick you 'where the sun don't shine', you'd be peeing blood for a week as a result." _

"_oh I'll kick you where the sun don' shine-!!!" he growled and was about to lunge, unfortunately for him Maka was prepared. Her left ankle curved around to clip against his right, she jerked it forward making soul fall backwards, lastly ramming her right elbow directly into his sternum. He was hit hard and fell hard. That was worse than any Maka chop or a kick in the nuts he would probably get. Maka stepped over the groaning man on the floor, utterly ravishing in the moment. _

"_I'm going to take a shower" But Soul wasn't about to let her go that easily._

"_you get the fuck back here you lil-" he sprang forward and skidded on the maple flooring, only to have the bathroom door slammed in his face; to add insult to injury he heard a flip of the lock with some giggling and jeers from behind the door. Soul swore and banged his fist on the frame a few times, realizing he wasn't intimidating from behind a locked door he gave a couple 'fuck you's and a "your ass is mine" the retreated to the lazy boy, rubbing his chest constantly. _

Back in the present Maka scrubbed her scalp allowing the shampoo to foam into the right consistency. She hummed and cooed as the warm water comfortably cascading down her body. She flinched when her elbow, now bruised and tender, ached when she stretched and placed the shampoo bottle on the side of the tub. Thanks to the "war" that took place an hour or so before, Soul who was armed with a list hesitantly trotted to a Walgreens across the street where he bought not only food but shampoo and other essentials; now cluttering the bathroom sink and cabinet. Not to mention leaving a whole in His wallet. The bathroom was seemingly made for midgets, but it did fit well for a two person house hold. The walls were a pastel mint/spring green hue, with white tiles on the floor, an off white tub complete with shower head, along with a classic 'porcelain thrown' and white sink. An opaque curtain shielded her from the outside world and permanently foggy windows were just above her head, letting some nice light.

Maka beamed as she allowed the luke warm water to wash away the green tea and vanilla citrus shampoo from her scalp. She began to giggle uncontrollably recalling the look on the cops face when he was toppled over, it was absolutely priceless.

Soul, over come with boredom, rubbed his chest again to inspect the damage. Smack dab in the middle was a purple and yellow bruise, not only did it look nasty it hurt like hell too. The T.V. blared Law and Order, but it wasn't attracting any attention.

More intune to his bladder than surroundings, Soul detached his ass from the lazy boy, cracked his back then sulked toward the bathroom, yawning through it all; absolutely oblivious to its current occupant. Maka gingerly reached and flipped the handle, the water halted instantly. She pulled back the opaque shower curtain, and reached for a grey towel, while Soul eater Evans flung the door open and looked up. Their standing before him was a very wet, very red, and very *ahem* curvy girl, adorned in nothing less than her birthday suit. Maka was like a deer caught in head lights; her brain was stuck in neutral. Soul, on the other hand, couldn't stop staring. He saw a picture a while back that the perverted ass ogled over, but that was a photo of a flat as a board and shaped like a board midget in pigtails!!!!! Soul's sharp gaze scanned and permanently memorized (at least in Maka's train of thought) every contour of her very surprisingly nice body. The situation remained a stale mate-

". . . . .daaammmmnn" -then it was shattered, Maka finally regained rational thought, and swung anything she could get her hands on. Soul managed to dodge both of their tooth brushes, a roll of toilet paper and a comb, when she threw a hair dryer (where the fuck did she get that from?) he slammed the door to ensure his own safety. Maka clung to her towel desperate to hide her flesh from very not -needed eyes, now behind a closed door. Soul's ears buzzed as he heard her scream and screech angry nothings about him. It had something to do with a shark-Parana hybrid, but the words weren't registering, all he could think about was _her _

_In all her naked glory . . . . . . WAIT!!! _Stop, hold the phone!!! What the ever living hell was he thinking?!!! Soul mentally five stared his face a few rounds, when his cheeks burned to the point they felt numb, he began to think. It was like a list on how wrong his feelings were. They weren't exactly _his_ feelings if you get the picture. Junior down there had a mind of his own; the problem was why he stood up. THEIR WERE SOOO MANY REASONS WHY THAT SHOULDN"T HAVE HAPPENED!!

_First off she is a minor_

_I'm her guardian_

_She's a junior in high school and I'm in my late twenties_

_Her father, A.K.A one of the only six people in the world that can skin me alive, would lop off my dick with a machete, stick it on a stake, and consequently parade it throughout the entire city of Chicago! _

_Did I mention the age difference?_

It had been three days since this chick had moved in with him, and it was hell. He continuously thought about drugging the screech owl then push the couch/bed out into the hallway with her snoring away. But knowing that stubborn little bull she'd find her way back inside by morning, snoozing on any other piece of furniture within his humble abode. If he did, his morals would come soaring back and bite him in the ass. Why the fuck this girl couldn't just live with her mother was beyond him. She always fawned over that woman anyway; why not pack her bags and just scram? He found one picture of her mom and the midget announced throughout the flat –in exact words- " my mama is the best!" and continued explaining that she was her "papa's" first partner.

As a bonus she quit the force and became a lawyer.

_Oh joy_

_Like mother, like freakin' daughter . . . . _

Soul heard a distinct crack coming from a door, a few yards away. A tomato was apparently burning wholes into the back of the Lazy boy he still occupied. Feeling the heat, the cop braced himself; he wasn't going to lose this battle, even if it killed him.

"What the hell . . . . you dicknut" _and it so begins_. . .

"what the ever living FREAKING hell . . . . you dicknut!" Maka was layered in a bear's jersey and faded bleach- spotted- torn-and skinny Kelvin Kleins. Her hair was damp but loosely spun up in a clip. Her face was a raspberry shade as she approached with fists clenched. Soul stood at full height, using his elevation to his advantage. He was at least half a foot taller than the petit female, with his fangs bared; he took the visage of a pit-bull about to be thrown into the ring. As intimidating as he seemed, Maka stood her ground with just as much passion and conviction.

"First off it wasn't my-"WHAM!! Before Soul could finish an encyclopedia created a canyon in his skull.

"-fault, WHAT THE FUCK!! ABUSIVE WOMAN"

" 'my fault' MY ASS! What kind of idiot doesn't know when knock first?!"

"Well sorry that I'm used to the single life!!" Their faces were at least 3 inches apart.

"That doesn't excuse you from seeing me in the shower!!"

"Nothing I haven't seen before _**sweet heart**_" Soul disconnected the intense staring contest with a smug grin, he turned toward and headed toward the kitchen.

"So just shut up and quite your whinin', besides-"Maka reached for another dictionary.

"There was nothin' their anyway-"and bam, Soul wasn't going to survive for very long. The rate things were going, he'd die from lack of brain cell activity. Or lack of brain cells period.

"Same goes for you too ass-whole!"Soul rubbed his head while he cowered on the floor, as the teen stomped past him and into his kitchen. Maka snatched her jean jacket and flung the back kitchen door wide open.

"And where the frick do you think you're goin?!" he hissed, still growling

"Walgreens, your fat ass engulfed all the milk! AGAIN!!" And with that the door slammed shut, Soul heard the loud thudding of the wood steps. He jumped up and skidded into the window parallel of him. It was raining cats and dogs, but that didn't stop Maka. She was now on the other side of the street, next to the Walgreens. She chucked a stone the size of her palm (probably found it in the alley next to the apartment) through one of the three windows facing the street.

Soul rapidly glanced back and forth from the broken window (a few feet away), the weapon (aka rocky), and the severely hormonal chick flicking him off below. He pulled the window up and stuck his head out.

"BITCH!!!!YOUR SOOOO PAYIN FOR THE WINDOW!!!! GOT IT?!!!" She threw another one, hitting him right between the eyes. Thank god it was only a pebble.

"screw you too, YA MAN WHORE!!" she glided into the Walgreens without another word.

"WELL FUCK YOU TOO!" This kid was unbelievable, and unfortunately for Soul, she had the last words. He inspected his forehead for any damages.

_No blood, that's good I guess . . . _

"oww dammit, she's got one hell of an arm" Soul Glared daggers in the mirror, his irises etched with murder, he would have his revenge. A bump began to form where the pebble met his face. Soul groaned he sensed his classic bachelor-swinger-lone wolf personality mocking him. He felt like a middle aged single father raising his only teenage daughter. Great, Spirit was mocking him to, and he knew exactly what they were saying.

"_Welcome to Hell"_

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**hahahaaa well I'm done and i have no idea what I will think of for the the next chapter :/ HECK I'LL figure it out! xDD and look at the pretty lil button down there, if you press it I will gives you a cupcake ;3 NOM NOM NOM! xDDD**


	4. karma

**hahahaaaaaaa I'm sooo going to Hell , i'm sure of it now! xD LOL! well Waz up peepes? you know who I am! for those who don't I'm wildchild911 and here is the forth installment of Breaking all the rules xD Btw theirs going to be the start of a lil romance next chappie xD HALLA~! not to much but It's the "spark that starts the fire" sort to speak ) **

**enjoy~ **

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Maka hissed as she slipped inside the alleged drugstore. She was soaking wet not to mention a little-code for majorly- pissed off. Her mind was a boiling pot of an infinite amount of emotions, most of them involved 2 ton dictionaries, and a whole lot of having the victim beg for mercy. Noticing that she was in a public place, and would scare the neighborhood children with her facial figure, she shook off the attitude. A figure in blue behind the cashier's desk, to her left, snagged her immediate attention. The cashier was an old black man who just smiled gingerly, his single golden fang glistening from the florescent lighting. Salvaging the rest of her dignity she gave a sheepish grin then went on to do her business. Her dripping sneakers squeaked on the blanched tiling, her hair and clothes creating a clear trail of water down the aisles. At least it was easier to pick up than bread crumbs.

She managed to snag at least a twenty from Soul's poorly guarded wallet, so she could afford more luxuries that were still desired. Contrary to the more widely used five fingered discount. She was thankful for the twenty; her morals would have chewed her out for stealing, especially with eyes on her like a hawk. The soaked-to-the-bone teen sauntered through the many items and shelves scanning the right items. First was milk, her main reason for even leaving the apartment. She picked up a classic shopping basket and dropped the milk right in, then moved onto other shelves for more "desirables". She choose a carton of chocolate briers and butter pecan ice-cream to share the living space within the basket. She cradled the cart as she bid Farwell to the diary and refrigerated aisle, then entered the "awkward aisle"

After passing many objects that no man would like to pick up for any member of the opposite sex (no matter how close they were) she discovered the pills. Her eyes caught onto a certain contraceptive pill box, then shoved it into the cramped courters of the crowded basket. She was about due, so she might as well come prepared. Finally ending her search for the mystery items, Maka dumped its contents onto the counter.

The old cashier checked each item off one by one, when he came to the "Yaz" box he paused, his gaze flashed at her then to the apartment. Maka froze, horrified.

"It's not what you!-"

"Chill kiddo, Judgin' by da show you gave me not so long ago, there's a very slim chance that this-" The man's hands were like a time line, the wrinkles were like rings to tell his age; Similar to a tree. He held up the box for emphasis.

"-is not for _that_ reason, but serves as anotha " Maka's Smile grew wide in understanding.

"You had daughters didn't you?"

"yep, and all five of them are still goin' strong" the old veteran gave her the bag, all contents included.

"So you know Mr. Evans then?"

"Who doesn'?"

"so he's famous then?"

"you betcha girly" He winked. Maka let her hips rest against the booth; she threw her head back and hollared with a vengeance.

"Good bye my virginity! You will surely be missed"

"so your roomin with him huh? No need to be snoopin' here child, but why?-"

"-I'm his niece" She hated lying but there weren't many options. If she went out with the truth, it still wouldn't sound legit. Besides saying she was related to that pedophile left a bad taste in her mouth and injured her pride immensely. The old man looked her over, scanning her face and posture for any sign of remorse or panic.

"I'll make sho' to pray for ya on Sunday"

"thank you but I don't think no amount of praying will save my ass today"

"da boy will rip ya t'shreds huh?-" The old geezer was having fun with this.

"-Especially since you broke his window."

"and more" Maka growled

"but you ain't goin' down witout a fight right?" Maka moved toward the glass door.

"someone has to knock him down a few pegs right?" He could feel the antagonizing emotion ebbing out of her.

"HA! A girl wit spunk! Now dat's what I like to see!" And with a final wave Maka made a dash for dry space. That little conversation gave her a new spark, a refresher if you will. She skidded through the empty dirt lot (courtesy for the stones) twisted to a sharp left then jumped the fence. The maple steps creaked and cracked like they were ready to shatter at any given moment, a reoccurring nightmare from Maka's childhood. Her hand gripped the ice cold handle. She flinched and created a battle plan.

Why she didn't buy that spatula she never knew, it would have made a decent weapon. Oh well her loss, her head, there was no going back now. She better hurry though, the ice cream was starting to melt.

_ON WARD!_

She flung the door open ready to dodge knives like in those classic bugs bunny cartoons, or at least have her bags thrown in her face and a finger pointing to the outside world. In Soul's language (which she had learned by now) that meant "get the fuck out", but she was met with no finger, no sharp objects and stranger still, no flaming albino ball of rage ready to mutilate her for breaking his window.

Excuse me, _their_ window.

The apartment was silent; there was no hint of rage anywhere. When she left the feeling was imbedded into the walls, even their neighbors would have felt -or most likely heard- the anger and frustration. It was seeping through the dry wall and made the home unapproachable. But like a twister, after it created damage and moved on, there was a clear eerie silence. No birds sang as the feelings vanished.

"Soul?" A risky move, but one she would have to take, just in case the Paraná hybrid had keeled over from his high blood pressure. Maka lowered the contents of her bag into the fridge, her head constantly facing the living room. She removed the "Yaz" and glided inside. Her clothes had left droplets of rain scattered behind, creating a trail of her travels. She slipped off her dripping jacket, hanging it on a jutting edge of maple desk chair. Now standing in the middle of the room, she turned toward the window; it was blocked with plastic wrap, newspaper, and tape. Crap, she really should pay for it.

_I knew that was gonna come back and bite me in the ass . . . . _

Her sneeze echoed throughout the still home. Her nose wrinkled in distaste while she aimed for her suitcase. A miniscule piece of parchment fluttered from its spot on the desk next to her drying jacket. A soft breeze carried it to the floor, catching Maka's attention. Her dripping hair swung over her shoulder as she turned toward the papers general direction. She hesitantly reached and plucked it from the floor. Her eyes gingerly scanned the scribbled comments hastily jotted down with a random maroon red sharpie. The note was fresh, seeing as it still reeked of the wet ink.

_Somethin' came up, be back in a bit_

_~Soul _

_**Wonder what came up. . . . **_Then she scanned the bottom of the card.

_Oh btw, don't think this means your off the hook, your still paying for the window! Later tiny tits_

He even had time to draw a little angry face at the end of the sentence.

"I'm honored you had the time to write me a note-"She cocked her hip to the side, twirling the notice with her fingers. "-your _**majesty**_" She muttered with an aristocratic tone, complete with a lisp. She let it drift the floor –still cradling her 2nd change of clothes- and glided into the bathroom. Leaving the note cold and alone on the ground, discarding it like a piece of trash.

Maka shivered as her soaked clothes slapped onto the tile interior. She draped them over the shower bar and towel racks, allowing them a chance to drip dry. The "mystery box" was shoved in the back of the cabinet, hidden behind Tylenol and Aleve. She ducked behind the curtain and flipped the handle, allowing warm water to engulf her. She moaned as the liquid hugged her body, instantly warming her skin and maybe a piece of heart. Her mind instantly switched back to the man in question. The saying 'once a prick always a prick' was her definition of the arrogant ass she had to room with. Why women drooled over him she would never know. It wasn't for his personality that was for damn sure.

"wow, and he calls _me _a winner. . . . "

She had to admit he was hot, and thanks to **his** lack of common courtesy she had seen him shirtless on many occasion. Actually, denying that the man wasn't a fine piece of –excuse my language- ass, would be considered a crime. Not to mention, according to the rumors, he was one great guy in bed, and yes word like that does get around fast, especially when the walls of your apartment were as thin as 3 sheets of printer paper glued together. She blushed at the thought while turning off the shower head.

Maka clipped her pale spring green bra around her back and slipped a pair of dry matching panties, then turned toward the fogged mirror. Her finger tips brushed the surface causing condensed moister to drip down, creating intricate branches across the glass. Her fingers curled into a fist, then uncoiled to have her hand lay flat. She swiped her hand across the mirror, leaving awkward zigzag gaps where steam should have been. Her eyes met with a matching pair, and stayed connected for quite some time.

she really should find a way to thank him, but how? Just apologizing to him would be degrading, and would scar her pride for all eternity. She sneezed again as a crack of thunder nearly made her shit bricks, her head snapped toward the window.

"Jesus Christ-"

The rain still pounded down with vengeance, to the point where it was getting on her nerves.

_Guess the rain won't be letting up anytime soon . . . ._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ guess where else~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Soooo you called us all out here just so you could bitch about this chick that you're rooming with, that apparently broke your window?"

"yep"

"aaaannd she's Spirit Albarns daughter?"

"The one and fuckin' only"

There was a silence throughout the table, quiet ironic actually; even the Thomson Sisters had shut up. Liz raised her dry vodka martini to the wobbly ceiling fan just above them.

"So she's 16 and she was still able to kick your ass?"Liz swirled the Smirnoff within her glass making the liquid dance; consequently distorting the image of the fan a few feet above them. Pattie returned to sketching a giraffe on a neglected napkin while cooing and giggling hysterically.

"Don't remind me"

"Well I like this chick! Bring her over to precinct some time; I'd like to know what she did to drop kick your ego down a couple pegs" Soul growled a few of F you's and chugged his Spatten, for some reason everyone had it set in them to kick him metaphorically in the balls today. Kid sipped his glass of white wine.

"I agree"

Black star on the other hand was on the floor laughing to damn hard to give a crap. Tsubaki Giggled behind her mint mohito, humming in approval on meeting the mysterious young women who apparently had served Soul's butt on a silver platter to himself on several occasions.

"and she threw pebbles at you?- oh sweet Jesus- I wish I could have been there to see that" Liz mumbled under her breath taking the final swig of her drink. Patty giggled hysterically at Soul, Her scrutinizing finger mocking him, as well as severally raping his bubble space.

"Did anyone get it on tape?"

"Probably not, wish they did though I'd pay good money to see that" Kid remarked as his glass slid from his hands, his smiling never stopping while Black Star was still laughing to damn hard he'd probably start throwing up his lungs. Soul slammed his beer down and Jolted upwards ready to lunge at his best friend.

"Black*Star if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm gonna take this bottle and shove it sooo far up your ass IT'S GONNA COME OUT YOUR FREAKING EYES!"

That still didn't stop him; Soul wished tiny tits were here, he could use one of her dictionaries. Once Black Star had finished he took on a serious face, everyone stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak. Soul glared at him behind his 3rd beer, ready to hear what useless crap the all mighty Black Star would spout.

"sooo~"

Black Star grinned like a chesher cat behind his bud light.

"did ya fuck her yet?"

A fountain of Spatten poured from Souls mouth, creating mist and rainbows galore between choking noises and wheezing. As Soul collected his bearings he was placed in the spotlight. Liz, Patty, Kid, and Tsubaki gazed at him like he was a friggin animal in a freaking Zoo and they were annoying tourists just waiting for something exiting to happen. Soul's face met the table, his forth beer slammed on the counter a second later. Everyone either laughed of grinned as they heard a small inaudibly muffled

"screeeewwwwwww yyyoooooouuuuuuu~!" come from the perpetrators covered face. The white fringe of his hair swung from the breeze, his black head band shifting forward some. After having the comment float around in his subconscious for a brief second, an empty beer bottle came in contact with Black star's nose and forehead. The blueberry was thrown out of his chair in immense pain.

"NEVER AGAIN!"

Through fits of laughter, yowling death threats, and sputtered concerns a random pager went off, signaling Tsubaki to return to work. She squeaked, bowed her thanks and flew through the front doors, several bills and a couple coins clunked into the booth counter, meaning she payed her half of the beverages. The ladies shuffled out after saying that they had to return to their shop, chattering something about a worker that seemed a little "off" whenever they would come back from lunch break.

They owned a freaking liquor store for Christ sakes. What idiot wouldn't want to crack into a couple bottles of Bacardi and grey goose while their employers were away for "happy hour"? Scratch that, every hour in that store was happy hour, hell Liz and patty are the exact definition of the infamous time period. OCD obsessed Kid soon followed, relaying something about returning to the station, complaining about a "problem" with his office. Oh yes his symmetry senses were tingling. Black star snickered, gulped the last of his beer, 5 stared his best bud on the back then fled to torment other "not-as- righteous-as –**I **!" human beings in the world who needed to please their "God"; or so he dubbed himself.

Finally alone, Soul finished his last spatten. His gaze pierced the Bud wiser clock just above the bar some yards to his right, articulating that he'd been drinking since 4 p.m. and it was now –ooh snap- 11:03p.m. Then a certain Blonde came into focus. Next came the window. Then came the pebble.

Shit.

He'd have to deal with her when he got back. If he made it back, due to that he couldn't find his flippin feet. Thank Kami he didn't drive. Soul slapped several bills with the rest of the fat stack, bid farewell to jack, the friendly bartender who insisted on giving him a ride home, but the cop just said he'd walk and wobbled out the door.

The walk home was a blur of shapes, pretty lights, and several near collisions with street light poles. He figured that if he realized he was drunk then he could be considered sober right? He felt like such a hypocrite to the badge and hand gun he kept tucked in his belt. Soon his feet found the stares through muscle memory and climbed them to the correct door. His hands fumbled through his pockets and thrusted a single brass key into the knot whole, he sighed as the satisfying click from the door gave him access to his home. He halted his actions. Behind that door at this very moment could be a rabid-hormonally-psycho child on steroids ready to mall him to death with foam bubbling from her mouth. The handle creaking slowly and the door moaned as it was softly pushed open. Ready to die, Soul peeked his head through the slight crack. Wait what was he doing this for?

_I'm a man aren't I? And I'm hiding from a little girl? FUCK IT!_

He flung the door wide open and was met with silence. Honest to god silence. He was beside himself. He scanned the kitchen, seeing no one, but what was even worse was that there was no noise. There was no movement or sound, just silence. Not that nice everyone's-asleep or awkward-moment silence, it was the calm-after-a-fucking-F5-tornado-just-ripped-through-your-freaking-house silence. Most of the lights were off save the one in the living room, standing guard on the nightstand at the head of Maka's "bed". As he stared out into the dark abyss of the living room, something on the table grabbed his immediate attention.

He couldn't believe it. Smack dap in the middle of the two person table was a bowl of white rice with bean sprouts, a small cup of spicy soy sauce, and some homemade dumplings. She actually cooked him a meal, was the little midget -now floating in dream land- actually demonstrating an emotion that needn't have a dictionary attached?

_**Is she actually trying to play nice? **_

"Like that will ever-"A pink sticky note stuck to the plastic wrap on the food distracted him.

_Compensation for the window-_

_**Yep she'd finally lost it**_

_Oh and btw-_

He smirked at the miniscule set of letters neatly printed with her cute handwriting. THe smirk nearly split his face it half.

_Sorry._

Oooh his ego was just boosted another twenty pegs. He wasn't finished though. He was going to make her say it to his face, the dinky little slip of scrap paper wasn't _his_ idea for an apology. He'd get it out of her tomorrow though, seeing as she was out like a light buried under a mountain of sheets and blankets. Her share of dinner was in the sink, the rest was left to him to complete. Not an impossible mission, in fact he was actually looking forward to this. She had never cooked him anything, when he wanted something to eat she would just snap at him when she was reading or doing god knows what else, saying.

"You've got two hands don't you?"

"Sorry~ not you maid"

"I'm not your wife, make it yourself, my god help that woman" etc you get the picture.

He tore the pink sticky in half and left it drift to the floor. He scooted into a chair, tossed the plastic wrap aside, and poised his spoon for some major action. He ladled a couple spoon full's of sauce into the rice bowl, mixed the rice and scooped his spoon to max volume. He held the bowl in his left hand, cradling it under his chin, and smirked once more. Where were his manners?

"Itadakimasu~"

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**ya'll kiddies know the drill, u press da sparkly (yes button got an upgrade) and shiney button u get one heck of a massive cupcake (or cookie, it's ur choice ;) ) xDD Btw the more u review, the faster i update ;3 oh I'm soo bad xD HA! LOVE U ALL et happy summer!**

**this is wildchild911 signing off ;P (for now!) c ya'll next chappie ;D**


	5. your my spark

**Well, I'm going to hell, first for being a total Beotch for not updating in what? 4 months (ouch) . well here's said "spark" that everyone's been looking for. . . .x3 There will be more sparks that will fly next chapter they will also be a tad more steamy (yay!) just to give u all a lil' heads up ;D **

**This is Wildchild911 Btw who is hunted by grammar Nazis, chased by angry fans (I have fans? OMFG xD) et is currently immersed in goldfish up to the wazu (yummy)**

**I don't own Soul eater which proves that beggars can't be freaking choosers can they? :P **

**Et I realllllly want to publish the lemon for this story, but I can't 'cuz that would F up the story line and Waaaaaaaaaiiiii! . and cuz I'm a horrible tease xD **

**Hope u accept this chappy as a massive apology since I can't really say "I'm sorry" :/ writers block truly sucks dust bunnies (wtf?) **

**Anywho~**

**Hope u enjoy~**

Thud, bang,

" . . . . . .oooooowww" a mountain of blankets connected with the hard maple flooring just below the off grey couch. Slowly the layers of the sheet cocoon were peeled away, revealing a very tired Maka Albarn. Her ash blonde tendrils swayed and glided across her creamy bare shoulders as her foggy mind examined her surroundings.

A single shaky hand gingerly lifted the collar of a certain dress shirt she mindlessly slipped on when she was half drugged by a special little "pill" named exhaustion. Maka's attention went to the baby blue garment once she noticed that the sleeves went way past her hands. In fact it left about 7 inches of unused clothe. The collar just barely ended at her shoulders, and even worse if she shifted the collar to the correct position even if buttoned all the way, would still give Soul nice "show".

Hell her boobs practically hung out of the damn thing. Why was she concentrating on the shirt and her, what did Soul like to call them? oh yes "man tits"? She had no freaking clue.

But he was going to sacrifice her to the laundry gods for wearing yet another piece of his valued articles of clothing. Or as Maka liked to call them; valued pieces o' crap. Hey she was tired, she noticed pieces of cotton cloth, didn't care who the hell they belonged to, and just slid inside but hey! She felt like she was overdosed on Benadryl, night quill, and Tylenol p.m. combined.

For those of who don't know, combined could knock you into a permanent comma where you would never wake from.

In short she felt like crap, but crap that wanted to sleep a pinch longer. Her face became intimately introduce to the wall a few seconds later. She gave a yelp and rubbed her abused forehead, whimpering at the probable red patch that would magically appear on her face as she searched for the alarm clock on the table.

Red letters glared down at her from their tall perch, seeming high and mighty as they blazed next to an unknown plant, a half full glass of sink water, her white T-mobile sidekick slide phone , and her mint green Ipod 4G Nano.

She Flinched as the mocking light of the alarm clock illuminated her face; her eyes began to adjust and barely managed to translate the alien numbers. According the black box from hell it was 6:13 a.m. and it was a Monday.

Oh Joy

Maka's nose wrinkled as a small yet adorable sneeze shook her small frame. Still drugged from sleep she dragged the over sized sleeve of her "night gown" over her petit face, then proceeded to rub her frosted fawn eyes desperate to keep from nodding off. A loud beeping sound cremated the rest of her fatigue, But it wasn't hers, the random siren was echoing from the 'forbidden layer'.

A loud thunk then a groan soon followed by a few 'oh craps' and a shuffling of lead feet, swirled behind a closed door to her left. Feeling a tad curious she crossed her arms atop the plushy couch, intent on distracting herself of a minor throb raving on the right side of her brain. Before she even ask 'what was up?' Soul Eater Evans flew from his room.

"Oh hell, what now?"

His socks slid in such a way it was like he was skiing, his feet soon lost traction so he collided with a kitchen wall. It was like watching someone slip on a banana peel; similar to the cartoons Maka remembered seeing when she was a little girl. She heard him continue to cuss worse than a sailor as his fingers played with his black studded belt.

She had to admit, this was pretty amusing. A giggle wiggled through as Soul struggled with thrusting his leg through the right whole in his pants. She shouldn't laugh, but if 'morning bash; Soul eater vs. the righteous toaster' was blared every morning then comedy central and M TV wouldn't exist. To a stranger this was just your average Monday morning, but to Maka seeing him like _this_, what did he like to call it? Oh yes, a "sooo not cool" state, there is no price tag that you can snap on. It's corny but to her it's priceless.

Armed with a fresh piece of toast from the toaster (where the hell did that come from?) lodged in his mouth, he skidded to the front door.

His ears twitched as another muffled sneeze poked his tunnel minded attention. His eyes fell and found Maka on the floor adorned in nothing but his favorite dress shirt. His left eyebrow twitched as his canines shredded a chunk of toast and proceeded to chew.

"Isn't that my shirt?" His right hand held the bread as he continued to take another bite.

A hand and pointer finger drowning in fabric gently motioned toward the miniscule clock just above the door. He got his answer.

"You're going to be late"

" S'not even related to my quest-" wait, crap, he was late. A puff of white hair, black leather, and Calvin Klein's evaporated through the front door. He didn't even close the door on the way out, jerk. Another sneeze disrupted the silence. Maka wobbly locked her knees to stand, the soft cool cushions of the couch sunk around her fingers using them for leverage. The floor felt cold and crisp as her feet padded toward the front entrance. Her hand stung from the cold metal as she shut the door and clicked the chain lock in place.

Another sleeved hand guarded her mouth as she gave a few meager coughs. She turned around and surveyed the home. She would be all alone, again.

She felt herself sway but was too lazy to catch herself. A fit of sneezing broke the moment and saved her from dropping to the floor, didn't want a little repeat of her face being introduced to dry wall again.

Ooh did she feel like utter crap. Now was her quest to find some Advil, or better yet some fiorinal. Did they have that?

If they don't she was going to be pissed.

She numbly waddled to the bathroom, scanning for any pain killers that would knock her out for the next twenty years. God damn did her head hurt.

She snagged a bottle of whatever; didn't read the label, swallowed two pills then flopped onto the couch. She molded into the cushions facing toward the T.V. She flipped it on only to turn it off. Watching Arnold mow down a bunch of Iraqi terrorists wasn't going to cease her headache anytime soon.

Her stomach disrupted her-self pity.

She doubted if food would ease the pain, but it was worth a try. Her legs and arms were jell-o as she swayed this way and that like a soggy noodle, her nails embedding themselves in granite counter top.

Her hands slid and tugged on the fridge door, the breeze felt great.

Crap.

She had a fever too didn't she? Sickness be damned.

Well she wasn't going to be eating any time soon. Her equilibrium was way too messed up for her to even stand let alone wander about the kitchen for breakfast.

_Uuuhhh being dizzy sucks balls! _

Her fingers hooked onto a poptart package, the metallic wrapping crackling beneath her sweaty palms. She teetered again, then found the couch.

_Oh~ gravity works_

-and flop. She severely doubted that choco fudge pop tarts were the best for her right now. Uhhh, suicide was becoming an option with the insane headache. She eyed the window contemplating a yes or a no.

ouch.

Forget it, owwie, uhh sickness; do not want!

As she prayed for her mystery pain killer to arrive and save the day, her mind suddenly fell on food, more specifically fruit. Soon the Benadryl softly started to knock her out.

Maka dreamed of apples and raspberries, how to get her hands on some vicadyn, and how she was going to save her herself a lot of argument about choosing to wear yet another piece of Valued fabric that smelled of men's polo cologne and washing detergent.

In other words, her care taker's fave shirt.

The brown couch and bears blanket engulfed her, persuading her to sleep, as neon orange flooded the room.

"your late" Soul flinched as the front doors to the station clicked closed.

"what is it my birthday? Why do ya always have'ta greet me whenever I'm-"

"your exactly 2 minutes late and-"

"I know you and your OCD fetish" Soul's eyes made countless numbers summer salts as the 2nd in command of the force escorted him to the elevator.

"Soooo I'm bein graced with your presence 'cuz?"

"There will be a business meeting concerning something of great importance; we just wanted to make sure you were present for the briefing." Soul's fingers danced against the opaque buttons till they found the number 8, then pressed as the number lit up.

"lemme guess, it starts now?" Soul's slouch seemed to disappear. When you are greeted by the Man in charge of the 'classifieds' ,He probably isn't there to hand you a gift basket or ask if you want to hit a bar after you punch the clock. The elevator shifted and groaned as crappy yet classic elevator music lulled the tense atmosphere.

It wasn't working though.

"correct"

3 more floors.

"s'bad news?"

"a certain gang member as returned to his home town."

"who? Capone?"

"no he -Al Capone's dead you moron"

"no shit, just wantin' to make sure you're on your toes, pretty boy" Kid restrained his immense urge to give Soul patrol duty, but he held his tongue. Kid's fingers ghosted through his jet black bangs as the elevator enclosed on their target floor.

"like I was saying, you remember the job you took when spirit was still around?"

"Kid, ya gotta be more specific than that" and there were mannyyy jobs

"Okay smart ass, How about the drug bust that landed you your career"

The heavy metal doors slid aside, Muscle memory kicked in as both respected gentlemen glided past several offices and desks weaving in and out. They were approaching their target, the conference room.

"You're kidding? I thought he'd still be in Russia?-"

"No he's back" 2nd in command's thumb and knuckle rubbed his tired blazing eyes. They already had enough trouble with several high ranked yakuza and a couple dozen cartel making themselves at home downtown. All they needed was a mentally deranged Russian to bring the "vodka", and the streets would run with blood.

That was the last thing Kid needed right now.

Soul groaned as they slid inside the glass doors, his bangs shifting out of his eyes. Kid split from Soul to stand in the front of the room next to a white board, the light from the windows casting a shadow on his jet black suit. Jacqueline was hell bent on fixing her eyeliner as her hips rested against the table. Harvar leaned against the back wall emotionless as ever while Ox ogled over Kim. Kim looked up at Soul with a disgusted look on her face.

The U.C. recognized her twisted facial expression.

Unfortunately the code "SOS" wasn't written in his memo.

He wasn't coast guard.

Soul plopped next to black star on a plushy office seat as everyone's gaze turned toward Death the kid. Mindless chatter seized to exist. Soul's shoes clacked on top of the table's glass like surface, the chair groaning as he leaned back. His hands propped up behind his head.

"Okay then everyone, let's begin"

_This was going to be a long day._

3 hours, three freaking hours he had to sit and listen to D.K. rant about the next "mission". If you could even call it that! How the Fuck could someone talk about scouting for three freaking hours straight?

He called them in for a meeting to tell them that they all had to freaking "baby sit!"

What the hell?

He wasn't even allowed to go to the bathroom, the fuck was that?

The Harley roared beneath Soul as he blew through yet another yellow light. To make matters worse he was asked to sit this one out, after listening to virtually nothing for three hours he was told to _**sit this one out!**_

Now that's just wrong. Speaking of wrong, Soul imagined how much blood and brain cells the little OCD-symmetrically-obsessed**- prick** would lose if he shifted each and every picture in his office at least 4 inches to the left.

He could just imagine the grand mall seizure now.

The pavement under the wheels hissed as the bike came to a stop under the half assed makeshift garage complete with tin sheet roofing and splinting pine two by fours. It was obvious it was a complete rush job.

And a crappy one to say the least.

A Growl emanated from the cop's stomach signaling meal time. He casually trudged up the maple wood stairs his onyx combat boots digging onto each step with a vengeance.

He smelled mint and green tea, meaning he was at old lady O'Connor's floor, a widow that lived below him, a wicken as well. She was well known for her medical cure-alls throughout the neighborhood,

especially the night séances.

He never forgot that ticket. HE never wanted to see a butt naked human over the age of 40 ever again. But she did have a sweet tattoo- whoa! Stop! Hold the phone! Very unsafe topic.

Soul halted as a familiar creaking of a particular board crackled under his weight. He pivoted to his left and voila! He was home. Deciding to be flashy with his entrance, Soul's foot connected with the back kitchen door. His chin nearly cracked in half with his smirk.

'sides he needed to blow off some steam with a little bitching and screaming, if Maka would blame anyone he'd have a valid (in his mind) answer.

The hinges screamed as the door was embedded into the wall behind it, a deafening crash echoed throughout the home. He expected to hear a shriek but was left with nothing. Disappointed, Soul shoved his hands deep in his pockets as his scowl slid over the "smile".

If you could call it that.

"OOOOIIIII~" No answer.

" Oi~ tiny tits!"

Silence was the only answer. There was no note, so there was no way she'd have left the house.

"God damn woman, I know you're home so answer me" a small raspy whimper reverberated from the living room.

He didn't give a shit if she was sleeping; He wasn't in a pitying mood. She could blame his boss for that.

He strode into the living room like he owned the world, muscle memory took over as his hands reached and flipped the light switch.

"oi~ bitch? "

A mass of orange and blue, tangled in a heap on his couch, shifted lazily. Soul kicked his boots off, and trudged over to the couch.

"Hey I'm starving-" His hands flew from his pockets to the blanket, the fabric crackling under his fingers.

"-so get off your lazy ass and make me some-"the blanket was thrown from its place around the girl's body. Soul halted his demands, and stared.

Her face was the hue of his living room walls, she had a thin layer of sweat coating her skin, her breathing was labored and raspy plus the circles under her eyes were nasty. Maka whimpered again as her neck and head were exposed to the cold living room.

"holy crap-" Soul's knees instinctively bended to meet the couch, his frigid hand twisted under her neck, and gently lifted it up to rest on the arm rest.

"I feel like crap-"she managed to choke out. She felt her throat crack like dried mud baking in an evaporated puddle.

"Your hands feel great by the way" Soul could feel the heat radiating from her forehead. He wasn't a dumbass, the girl was sick. Anyone could figure that out.

"Congrats genius-"Well she was able to speak and discern words, wait when did he say that out loud?

It would be kind of redundant to ask if she was okay, she wouldn't get anywhere with lying. Not when she looked like, _that_. Soul was at a loss currently. He was absolutely clueless on how to handle this situation. Did she need pills? Should he call Tsubaki? Hell should he ring up Mrs. O?

He had no fucking clue.

A vicious cough broke his concentration. He knew one thing though, he needed to cover her up and give her something to eat. He slowly lifted her into his arms, cradling her close to his chest. Maka could barely make out what he was saying, as he cooed quiet whispers into her left ear.

His hot breath fanned her neck and ear, burning whatever places they ghosted against. She whimpered again as she felt the familiar touch of cool crisp bed sheets against her back. Soul's fingers dusted her bangs away from her face while a quilt was haphazardly draped over her chest and feet.

"did ya take any pills?" shit, she was so drained she couldn't even speak. That was new. Seeing as miss motor mouth never liked to keep things quite. He nudged her softly like he was petting a bird with a broken wing, making sure he would cause her any pain.

"Hey, tiny tits?" Maka shifted again, and slowly nodded. Well now they were getting somewhere.

"what time did ya take 'em?" At least she was out of it enough to leave the Benadryl out in the open (in the bathroom); she really didn't look like she could form any words. He strained his ears to be rewarded with what sounded like a 7.

Yeah, that would make sense.

He was guessing she took two, seeing as that was the normal dose. He was surprised she didn't over dose. **He** sure as hell would have.

He knew she had a fever that was for damn sure. A meek cough interrupted his brainstorming.

Soul shot up from his knees, the floor boards whining as his loud footsteps echoed out of the room, his hands were shaking. Why were they?

He returned with two more white pills- that matched the shade of her face- and a bottle of Crystal Mountain. Maka flinched as her caretakers weight sunk into the mattress as he turned towards her.

Soul gingerly pulled her to his lap, her legs and arms were jell-o as they slid this way and that. Soul took several sips, coating the inside of his throat and mouth. Maka opened her eyes in innocent curiosity; her clover eyes, glazed and misty, scanned his face.

He was drinking something and he just popped two pills in his mouth. What in the ever living hell was he-. Soul's fingers curled under her chin, and pulled it up to him.

Maka was wide awake as her care takers lips slammed to hers. What was going on? Why was this happening? Her fingers slid against his tee-shirt, desperate to yank him away. Soul growled, she wasn't opening her mouth, sure he was crossing a huge line but she couldn't take her pills on her own.

He felt a meek hand curl in his shirt, wrinkling the fabric. This was going nowhere. They were both at stale mate seeing as Maka refused to open her mouth.

Realizing that she couldn't take a hint, Soul nipped at her bottom lip, desperate to distract.

With a gasp water flooded her mouth along both with the pills. Soul kept a tight grip around her shoulders and slim neck as water slid down the girl's throat, curving over her jugular and collar bone.

When Soul felt her swallow he pulled back, both of them gasping for air. Half dazed Maka was left stunned and immensely exhausted. She couldn't comprehend what had just happened, especially when she was expecting him to let go.

He wasn't, she kind of saw that coming.

Soul's molten eyes darted from door to the miserable child he was cradling in his arms. He'd already brought her to his "forbidden layer" was what she called it, so why move her again?

Soul cautiously lowered Maka's neck and back onto the soft bedding and gently pushed her away from him; to give himself some room. He wasn't about to leave her alone, even with the aspect of becoming sick.

He'd just locked lips with her, what? 4, 5 seconds ago? 'sides he was off from work for as long as kid wanted him to be, he would still receive a paycheck too every once in a while.

Soul tore off his shirt and threw it to god-knows-where and slid onto the bed, making sure there would be no backlash from the springs to disturb the girl.

He hastily grabbed both of the pillows on his bed and sandwiched them on top of each other, against the metal graded head board. Soul's eyes glided down Maka's body , surveying the damage again.

She seriously looked like a member of the living dead. At least her breathing was less raspy and her face wasn't twisted in pain (proof that a certain headache was reseeding).

God dammit, she really was wearing his shirt wasn't she?

He was going to give her one hell of an ass whopping when she was-

-Alive again? Can't really describe the misery there.

Recalling a certain tip from Tsubaki when they were chatting about survival training (and being a P.A. plus his trusty friend, she couldn't resist the chance to give him some helpful little pointers) Soul remembered a certain fact about fevers.

"_if you or your partner have a high temperature, try (if you can) to soak in warm water for at least 10 minutes-"_

Soul glared at Maka again.

_**Nope, not trying that.**_

_-if that isn't going to work, try body heat" _Soul groaned, well it was better than nothing. Delicately, He slid Maka out of his shirt; peeling the fabric from her soaked skin.

And from what he could see (and feel), she wasn't wearing a bra.

Gods help him, he was going insane.

Plaid huh? It looked good on her though, especially the petit white lacy bow directly below her navel. The white, teal and sea foam green lines coated the fabric, abruptly cutting up at the top, as a sharp white waist line made of the same white lacy material as the bow kept her panties in their respective place.

But damn did she have a body. With her slim waist, wash board abs, and a delectable ass the girl was prime pick out of any litter, even her tits were nice despite the size. Her face was that of an angel with jaw dropping eyes that drowned any man unfortunate enough to be swallowed by them. The girl might look frail, but she could probably take a rough beating. Speaking of rough-

Soul cut is thoughts where they were, slicing them like a shredder. His cheeks matched the shade of his eyes as he hefted Maka onto his bare chest. We wasn't going to pursue the subject any further, it could prove quiet disastrous for him. Seeing as she was only wearing her panties.

Her freaking panties, for Christ sakes.

_At least she doesn't wear a thong-_

No, stop, shut up, never again.

Soul hissed as she shifted atop of him, her nipples rubbing against his chest. Wait was he actually feeling something for this girl?

This scrawny little spit fire that cost him his pride as a connoisseur of women?

He'd be damned if he actually fell in love with this kid. There was no freaking way that would happen. He liked his women experienced and ready to go. Not fresh, naïve, and certainly not spit fires in small packages.

The Benadryl was obviously working, since her breathing calmed and she had some color in her face.

Gently, after everyone was snug in a comfy position, Soul draped them both in his grey goose down quilt. Maka shifted again as her knees brushed dangerously close to his "male sanctum". He prayed to god that she wasn't a kicker in her sleep; he really wasn't in the mood for a _**man check**_ at the moment.

Scratch that.

He wasn't in the mood for a man check **EVER.**

All five of Soul's senses were wired and beyond hyper sensitive as a near silent purring sound was mumbled from ontop of him.

God help him.

It really was going to be a _**long**_ night.

**Well that didn't take long at all (killz self) J.K. **

**well my children you know the drill, U press pretty and sparkly button (yes button got an upgrade) you will get your choice of a cup cake or a cookie of your choice, et as a bonus I'll send u a package of goldfish as a thanku xD , if u don't like goldfish shame on you, since you will still get the figurative package ;P I LOVE U ALL hope your day is filled with rainbows and sunshine ;D**

**~wildchild-tan signing off (for now)**


	6. and so it begins

Morning rays cracked through off gray shutters, slicing through the room as it bounced off plain walls and worn maple flooring.

Judging by how loud a chipmunk was screeching outside, it was probably morning. But did it really have to bitch directly outside the window?

Maka rolled her head to the left. Her neck and head were stiff and heavy as her foggy senses began the process of waking up, like the lab top in the living room.

Slow to respond and not a lot of satisfying results.

But something was a little, how could she put this . . . off.

She discovered that she was lying on her stomach, her were arms and hands pinned under her stomach and against _something_- whatever it was- it reeked of tobacco, old spice, and what was this? Booze?

That was new.

Maka stretched her legs to the bottom of a- you have got to be kidding?

Her bare toes scratched at the cold metallic surface of a railing, and gingerly curled upward to snag a piece of comforter. She was predicting that she was on a bed, a peice of furniture she hasn't touched in weeks.

This was morphing into a very unwanted situation

Soul never used the couch that was dubbed Maka's bed; in fact he almost never crossed the line into her "inner sanctum" despite their nonexistent privacy problem.

She nagged to him- on more than one occasion- if she could obtain a screen, hell even a curtain, just so she could at least create her own little section of 'me-space'.

She even offered to pay with her own money, but being the tight wad that he was, Soul shut her up with some simple answers, while shoving a few curt explanations down her throat.

Maka tugged on her arms to set them free, only to have something warm and very muscular slide across her back.

What the hell?

It wasn't a blanket that was for damn sure. She moved again as she yanked on her arms. She was praying to god that she was lying on a bed.

_Please dear god let it be a mattress-_

"You know sweetheart -"

_Guess not._

"you really need t'stop doin' that, s'not cool" A husky voice mumbled under her. She felt his baritone voice reverberate in her chest cavity, he was close.

If she remembered correctly, beds weren't supposed to talk.

Soul hefted an arm from the girl's waist, his fingers slid over his eyes and stubbled chin as he looked down to survey the damage.

At least she survived the night.

But the look she was giving him was positively priceless. Her eyes were huge (to the point where they swallowed her face) and said face was flushed as her mouth cracked open in a confused "oh".

When she figured out she was shirtless, the moment melted into something soo much sweeter.

Revenge maybe? Yes such a pleasant feeling.

It was adorable that she was struggling like a fish in his arms, and that she was hell bent on slamming her cute little knee into his-

-whoa, little to close for comfort there. Damn was the little _spite-fire_ energetic.

"whoa sweetheart cool it, if you don't stop -"

Maka rolled and bucked like a crocodile caught in a fisherman's net, blatantly ignoring Souls gentile command. She couldn't help it. She wanted to know where in god's name was her shirt –excuse her- his shirt and why was she on top of him, naked-

Scratch that, she still had her panties on.

That calmed her down some, but that still didn't excuse _this_!

Her face was the shade of Soul's eyes. She recoiled in his arms like a snake, snagging the sheets with her as she flapped about. She was successfully cocooning herself like a butterfly not ready to face the world, problem was that her time as now.

Besides his back and neck were sore for keeping the same position for more than six hours.

A feral growl hummed in his chest as it slowly began to build, crescendoing as he captured each arm and leg in a carefully executed 'dance'. Maka's finger nails caught the soft cotton fabric of her captive's tank top, her legs followed suit as she felt every inch of the cops' torso and the bulk of his arms wrap around her; like she was an animal capable of self harm.

"Come on don' make a scene here-"

Fuck a scene! He was going to get a freaking Broadway musical!

Her vocal cords prepped themselves for the scream of a lifetime, only to be cut off by something

A skillful tongue was currently sliding into her mouth. Maka swallowed the scream as hot velvet flicked at hers. The wheel was spinning and fireworks were blasting off like the fourth of July. Instinct dominated the playing field where logic had no standing what so ever. Her body dared itself to do the impossible; she had no choice to obey as Soul's tongue kept sweeping over her gums. Soul caught onto a muffled whimper before the little kitten came to life and responded.

He began a desperate man who was struggling to keep his patient quiet, now this was blooming into a make out fest.

All thanks to a whim.

A pathetic little whim.

Her nose was pressed to his cheek; his palm was cupping her neck. There was a massive problem that was shedding its skin at rapid pace, evolving into something that neither would be able to control.

Both were beside themselves when he instigated and she didn't push him away. They just played along in the devils game.

Now the experienced concierge was in a nasty battle to stay in control. He was seriously beginning to doubt that the straggly vixen on his lap was a virgin. To Soul's chagrin, Maka's tongue matched and ravished with vivid accuracy as his own; never pausing never ceasing.

This was wrong, the heat was building as sparks crackled and clumped together. He was acutely aware of the child's position. The girl spilling whimpers and sighs galore, arced her slander back, her meager breasts and washboard stomach sliding against his midriff.

She hadn't even hit 20.

The monster was about ready to leave its cocoon, if they don't stop now; this was going to turn very ugly.

Like light flooding a room that hadn't seen sunlight in eons, the shock as Maka forced her chin and head backwards was electrifying. The magic was slowly fading as vigorous breathing dissipated and minds began to shift back from instinct to logic. Maka couldn't even begin to understand what she had just done. She'd actually just made out with a man she barely knew, not to mention that kiss was her first.

His neck felt cool against her forehead, was her fever back?

Why wouldn't it be after something so intense?

Cold panic slammed into her with no mercy. She curled her lips as her tongue prepped to clear that massive misunderstanding, but before she could even apologize for playing along she was in the air.

Her legs dangled off his arms as she was carried bridal style in his stern grip.

"Since you can pull off somethin' like _**that**_**" **

Soul kicked his door open.

"-then your fine" Maka yelped as frigid flooring connected with her butt and wrists, a familiar stinging sensation traveled up her arms through her fingers as she tilted her head upward and behind.

He just dropped her. He just threw her to the freaking floor like she was yesterday's leftovers. The shock was hit home even further as her embarrassment began to rise.

"oh and by the way-"

Her eyes were big, her hair was messy, and she was bare other than a pair of American eagle panties her mother got her for Christmas.

"-thanks for the lesson tiny tits, let's do that again sometime" and the door clicked closed, not before the shirt she wore came flying into her face.

The cotton scratching her nose and chin.

And there she was, embarrassed, humiliated, and urked all at once. Her legs wouldn't let her stand for they were glued to the floor as her eyes were locked to Soul's bedroom door. Her lips were sore and swollen. Her butt stung from the cold.

Soul's shoulders slid against the awkward paintjob of his bedroom door. What had he just done? The remnants of a substantial taboo were dropping to the floor and shattering like cracked window fragments sliding from their welcome place in the puzzle of the window, slicing the air as they connect to the floor and brake.

Slight shuffling and the disturbance of covers signaled the temptress's departure from his front door.

She was as dumbfounded as he was. Souls calloused fingers pulled back some loose strands of hair, Maka tucked herself deeper into her quilts as she fiddled with the dress shirt.

**what the fuck** _**did I just do?**_


	7. let it burn

**Hahahhaaaaa I'm going to writer's hell xD. I'm destined to. xDD Well HELLO READERS it's me WILDCHILD911! ;D**

**I haven't updated in a looooooonnnng time but hey at least I'm continuing :P anywho, this chapter was completed through my slaving efforts and was stamped with an intimidating and firehouse-red label named "FINISHED!" Problem was that it was unedited, not spell checked, and I just managed to finish it at 3:07 in the morning. There was no way in fanfic hell I was going to post this until I was awake and knew what I had written. **

**The reviews from angry readers, simultaneously chanting for me to update, inspired me~ :3 Well my beautiful children I bring onto you the 7th chapter of Breaking all the rules. **

_Words like this-_ mean that they are talking to themselves separately :D

_**And like this-**_means they are saying something to themselves in unison ;D

**I don't own Soul Eater *cries in corner***

Hushed shuffling and a soft click of a rusted lock hummed through empty and hollow space. Maka peeled the remainder of her garments from her slender shoulders, absently feeling them brush her creamy legs, as they floated to the chipped tile floor. Her thoughts drifted as her eyes traced her now naked body in the bathroom mirror. Her finger tips delicately slid across her cheeks still flushed with a bashful pink. Her hair dusted her shoulders, as stray strands hung over her bangs; between her fawn eyes. Her nails scratched at her neck, then spread out as her palm cupped the back of her fragile neck. The burning that had simmered in the pit of her stomach flickered and licked at her heart.

His strong hands hugging her body

His tongue exploring her mouth, licking her like she was a piece of his favorite candy

Her unoccupied hand rested on her left breast, directly over her heart. Her pulse fluttered and swayed like a bird with a broken wing. Maka tried to sooth that flighty little sparrow, her attempts yielded little results.

Her refection was replaced by chipped mint paint and dry wall, as she harshly thrusted back the opaque shower curtain. The rushed hiss of water was like white noise as Maka's forehead rested on the off-white tiles climbing shower stall.

The water's warmth crept and wrapped around the curvature of her numb body. Her pulse refused to dissipate, images flooded her subconscious.

_His calloused hands caressing her body_

_His fingers gently peeling away each layer of her clothing_

_His tongue ravishing her neck and chest_

_His eyes memorizing, burning each patch of flesh into his subconscious-_

The siring pool in the pit of her stomach began to bubble as a dull hum stemmed throughout her body.

With a pained groan, her wrist twisted the shower handle with overflowing frustration. Her skin stung as frigid liquid poured from the shower head. Her hollow gasp welcomed the wake up call, yet loathed it as the seething pool evaporated the moment the first drop splattered onto her creamy shoulders.

She whimpered pitifully as her body became used to the temperature change. She reached for the shampoo, hell bent on ignoring the impulsive-shark-like creature just beyond the door.

Said "shark creature's" venomous sight was literally creating holes in the bathroom door, like superman melting an immense metal obstacle.

He heard that too.

Shark-creature?

Really?

Was that the best she could come up with?

His left hand twitched, he had the strangest urge rip that door from its hinges and give her a piece of his mind.

He closed his eyes, calming his swelling anger.

_Her whimpers resounding throughout the darkness of his bedroom._

_Her ashen hair cascading along the creases of his bed sheets and pillows._

_Her meek hands curled against her bare breasts, embarrassed and intoxicated_

_Her luscious skin glistening as his hands moved-_

A ripping pain traveled through his knuckles up to his biceps. His knuckles kneaded into the dry wall next to his dresser.

Each nerve stung from the shock wave

A heavy growl echoed, but not too loud as to alert the woman currently wasting all of his hot water.

The familiar heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, the same heat that was simmering just minutes before. He rested his forehead against the wall; he sucked in shallow breaths to swallow the ache that was slowly dissipating.

His eyes pierced the bathroom door with a vengeance, then feeling defeat, Soul no longer glared at the five foot hallway, with a closet to the left, and the hiss of a shower head directly in front of him.

The unpleasant squeaks of dry wood from the dresser as he yanked open a drawer, blended with the shamble of activities in the apartment. Bare feet slapped the hard wood floor through the door; their destination was probably the kitchen.

Burners clicked and burst to life

white tank top slid over toned abdomen

Soul emerged from his inner sanctum.

Maka just concentrated on her egg.

Despite the morning News announcing five dollar gas prices and the death of Bin Laden, the lack of communication between both human beings was-

-strange

For lack of a better word.

Both camped at their respective stations, concentrating (or attempting to) on their useless activities. Tension was building, the pressure gage twitching from green to yellow.

Soul's fingers fidgeted with the remote keys

they bounced from button to button at random.

Maka glared at her egg and swore it was leering right back at her.

They were at yellow to brushing deep orange.

By this time, Soul had broken through the forth wall and was currently singeing craters into the girls head and body. Maka refused to break her staring contest with her sizzling egg. The contrasting white yoke bubbled against the faded black frying pan and spat the remaining butter onto her hand. She flinched, drowning in despair.

She was washed with the sense of awkward sensitivity and curiosity. It was similar to being sandblasted by lapsing waves as they tackled your shins; each attack eroded away little by little until there was nothing remaining.

She glanced to her left to match his challenge.

His left ankle dug into the worn oak coffee table, his jeans eclipsed his right foot which had found sanctum on his left knee.

Half of his body was shielded by the armrest.

His left shoulder relaxed, clutching the T.V. remote.

White tendrils of his bangs drifted away from his eyes, as his head tilted back and towards her.

His eyes stabbed her like surgical needles, quizzically backing her into a corner.

The corner of fucking shame and no god damn return.

The bastard . . .

Before she knew it, she was face to face with her egg once more. Maka swore to the breakfast gods that she would never do that again. Her shoulders curved forward more, her navy white tie-die tank top shifted further up her shoulder blades. Her nails sank deeper into the granite counter top. She was being crushed by the pressure as it slowly ate away at her strength.

The pressure gage's glass cracked and hissed.

The arrow twitching at the bowling point.

"Oi, bomb-shell-"

_Jesus mother of__**!**_ –

Maka shrieked like a banshee as her body hovered to the ceiling.

Her hand clutched her chest; it was like her Soul had been drop kicked out of her body.

Meanwhile Dr. scare-me-fucking-senseless was swallowed in his mirth, proud that he had just succeeded in making the child under-go cardiac arrest.

The jerk

"**what?**"

"Your egg's burnin'" His arms and legs extended like an exhausted dog, each muscle expanding as toes curled. Maka glanced back at her egg.

The stench of burnt yoke caused her to cringe and her face recoiled.

"lucky shot, **one hit wonder**" each letter was dripping with sarcasm. Her finger's stabbed and twisted the defenseless burner, the flames vanishing as her once condescending breakfast flew into the trash bin.

All cards on the table now; this was no time to back down.

"soo-" Another shriek, the sneaky bastard was directly behind her.

_How the __**frick**__ did he get there_?

The still panting girl gripped the frying pan, desperate to calm down. She glanced at the stainless steel cooking utensil; she was currently clutching in her fingers, then scanned the "one-hit-wonder". He was exactly parallel, and the pan was still hot, she pondered how loud he would scream if she pulled a fast one?

Maka stilled herself as said "sneaky bastard" helped himself to the remaining milk left in the fridge.

"Don't even think 'bout it _book-worm_, That pan will be up your ass before you'd be able to hit me"

_Hahahaaa BITE ME!_

Deep breath now, don't lose control.

"Aren't you supposed to be on the couch?"

"I've got legs kid, why not use them?"

"You never do, you're buying another carton by the way"

She tossed the pan into the sink and pushed past him, an apple juice box tucked between her fists. Her destination was the main window, while Soul's vision kept her in his sight like a sniper's scope. His eyes were fixed on her back, her neck, her honey hued hair.

"You sure you're a virgin?"

A rainbow of juice sprayed from Maka's mouth. **Now **the forth wall had been blown open.

She was frozen to the floor, in the exact center of their living room.

Were they really going to talk about this?

"Seriously? You expect me to answer that?"

So she wasn't going to own up to it, huh?

"By how we were sucking face 45 minutes ago, I'd guess otherwise"

"It's my own damn business, and what are you? A freaking chastity belt?"

"babe I'm the master key, but that little performance you made was pretty sketchy-"

"sketchy? Don't even get me started; when I fell asleep, I was clothed. When I woke up there. Was. Nothing. ther-!"

"hey, there's a logical explanation!-"

She almost coughed up her juice box.

"Sorry I'm allergic to _**bullshit**_, there is no logical explanation for that little stunt-"

"-I liked you better when you were rotting on my couch. "

"Really? Then why I'm a still here?"

"You were wearin' my favorite shirt"

"but that doesn't explain the-!"

"kiss?-"

Dare he call it that?

"sorry princess, you're not my type, why're you so hung up on it?"

Soul followed the trail of blazing heat emanating from Maka's face and ears.

Well trial and error never hurt anybody.

"Let me guess-"

Maka crunched the shell of her juice box, draining every last drop of appley goodness.

"-that was your first?"

Another display of not one but two dazzling rainbows spewed from the child's lips.

This could become Soul's next favorite sport.

"Oh my, a double rainbow"

Her face was a bright red blob of embarrassment. In all honesty it was kind of cute.

"Excuse me?"

"nothin'-" He had abandoned his post inside the kitchen door way, his right arm holding the weight of his upper body, a lazy right leg hooked over his left. His footsteps were heavy on the wooden floor. He was obviously headed toward the couch, but she still refused to face him.

To Maka's upmost horror 'sneaky bastard' did not make the couch cushions squeak and moan.

Oh no, instead he was directly in her line of vision, blocking the center window.

He was going to make her own up to "playing along" in their little game of 'what are you doing?,'

Which was _none_ of his _**goddamn**_ business!

But both were stubborn, both were incredibly stupid, and they both wanted answers.

Now was the time to act

"it's not really a question of what _**I**_ did-" She was going to get the jump on him this time.

"-It's what _**you **_did" She leaned a bit forward in the 'you' for emphasis. Her cheeks were still dusted with a shade of pink.

Soul flinched, now she had him cornered. Shit. Shit. _Shit_. **SHIT**!

"Tha's 'cuz-"

"-Because_** you**_ know,** I** would _**NEVER**_ have accepted if **you** didn't _start_ _**it**_" God she was slamming him **hard. **Soul would be lucky to leave this battle with his life, let alone with his pride.

There was nothing for him to say! She had nailed the argument to the wall with one sentence!

There was no way for him to defend himself. Wait, was there?

"-sure I started it, but _**you**_ wanted **more**" good answer.

"b-but that w-was m-my!-"Her words grew choppy.

_Eh? She's still hung up on that?_

"What? Your first kiss? So what if your lips aren't virgins?-"

"That still doesn't explain why you kissed!-"She was regaining control of her voice again, the space between them shrinking.

"Sorry to disappoint princess, but it was to shut you up!"

_Oooh, he did not just call me __**princess**__!_

"Shut me up? There were more _**suitable**_ solutions than!-"

"-**believe me** it wasn't my _**first**_ _**choice**_!"

Ouch that stung some

why? Maka never knew

but if they didn't reach a stalemate soon, a concerned neighbor might call the police.

A whim, once again, became an alibi.

With one dainty step, they connected.

His lips were rough, cracks littering each crease. There was no tongue or any wanton attempts, just an excruciating peck; that seemed to last into the next ice age.

She pictured a bewildered cop with eyes wide and would be stuttering like an insecure lad talking to his first crush.

She predicted his face would be twisted in a priceless visage.

She didn't know, because her eyes were glued shut from sheer determination and embarrassment.

Her toes were cramping as she balanced, his back cracked from leaning down for so long.

Just for gits and shiggles she was going to test him, see how far he would go. The consequences were of little importance.

For once in his adult life, Soul eater Evans was speechless.

His eyes dwarfed the sun.

Her fingers coiled around the straps of his tank top.

His hands stuffed in his jean pockets.

Without warning, their connection snapped apart.

A hushed silence. To them time had stopped.

Cliché, yes, but at the moment anything was possible.

With a flushed face and a puffed out chest, Maka Albarn marched circles around him like a conquering hero.

Utterly pleased with herself.

"What do you say to that? neh? _Mr. Evans_~?" Soul was currently picking up his mouth from the floor.

He traced his bottom lip, the taste of milk and honey still fresh on his lips.

She was headed toward the fridge now, giddy to pick out her award for "catching him with his pants down".

_Maybe-_

Maka's fingers danced between left over spaghetti and pudding cups, debating upon Greek yogurt or a chocolate muffin.

Her victory song became the French national anthem, her sweet humming drowning out the sound of approaching footsteps.

_-Just maybe._

"if they're that size, don't flaunt 'em. Especially when there's nothin' there."

Her hand almost crushed her chocolate muffin. Her head snapped to the right to defend her "late blooming teats."

A demanding hand clutched the nape of her neck, a strong arm kept the fridge door from closing on them.

The muffin crumbled to the floor.

Her delicate fingers, once again, sliced into his tank top. Soul gently tugged her hair, forcing her head back. The kiss wasn't a peck, that wasn't his intention in the least.

Tongues battled and teeth clashed. A chiseled arm yanked her away from the fridge door only to curl against the curve of her spine.

Dominance was split.

The insult about her breast size was forgotten.

Sheer, excruciating bliss resounded between the two.

Soul snapped his head up; halting their excursion (dare he call it that).

A soft whimper of disappointment was the only reassurance he needed.

"payback" was his only answer, the girl snuggled in his chest huffed in frustration.

Her neck was sore from glaring up at him, her breathing uneven and needy.

Her eyes sparked with the thought of revenge.

The warmth of his arms left her as he made his way to the back kitchen door, keys and his favorite leather jacket in tow.

"I-I'll-"He turned around to receive her explanation.

"I'll get you f-for that"

_Pretty big words for such a small girl_

Yet Soul could not conceal his excitement.

His smirk was wide and arrogant.

"Sounds fun _baby_, dazzle me."

_**Challenge accepted.**_

**Alas, now I've got a budding romance on my hands :/ at least the stupid couple can finally move forward. Well in their case Ignorance is bliss (I guess?) xD funny thing is that I already have the lemon figured out xDDD but I'll save that for when the time arises (BE PATIENT MES ENFANTS!) K peeps you know the drill, review and untold amounts of "promised "food from your dreams will be showered upon you~**

**And I might just update faster ;3 I love you all !**

**WILDCHILD911 peace out ;)**


	8. bridge over troubled water

**Hahahahaaa Hi everyone I'm alive and I (once again) sincerely apologize for an eternity of not updating. Blame school. Why? Exactly! Anyway . . .thank you for your patients mes enfants B.A.T.R. will become spicy very soon ;D hope u enjoy. **

**I don't own marron 5 (or Soul Eater), but good god do they have the moves like Jagger.**

The game plan went like this, all rules applied, and if caught cheating; punishment would be decided by the opponent.

Problem was; this challenge didn't have any rules.

The challenge said everything was fair play

From streaking naked in the street, to just being a tease.

Kiss me once shame on you, kiss me twice shame on me-

Well, number three was uncharted territory.

But with Soul Eater Evans as an enemy . . . not for long.

Both simmered in their respective pride as each earned back a piece of their dignity.

His left cheek was a prime target during the Hawk's game.

Her lips tempting when she was sucked into a Johanna Lindsey romance Novel.

The more they "tangoed" the bolder the game became.

Each stoked each other's fire, making the wood crackle and spit with mass intensity.

"_S-Soul" _

_Her hands weak and twitching. _

_A majestic purple vegetable left alone on a cheap plastic cutting board._

"_hmm?" Bold fingers danced up tangerine fabric. _

"_H-hold-ah! on!"_

_His teeth nibbling a sensitive earlobe._

_His tongue lapped at her earring and descended to the nape of her neck._

"_sorry beautiful, didn'na know you' ere tha' sensitive" His voice dripping with his Scottish drawl. Maka's knees liquidated to butter, his accent was . . . distracting. _

_Very distracting._

_His tongue and teeth bred goose bumps that pulsed across the surface of her skin._

_A rush of air, a hasty breath, then slight squirming._

_Confused, his tongue preened over a fresh hickey. _

_His eyes dipped down, following the curve of her collar bone, glimpsing the narrow passage between her breasts. _

_He snorts, she whimpers._

_His fingers had brushed the bra. _

_His lips tickle her neck as they spread wide, his teeth raking her skin as they rest directly behind her ear. _

"_**Nice view**__" her whine manifests into a surprised hiss. Her nails imbedded themselves into the wood handle of her knife. _

"_d-dammit Soul! I-I'm holding a knife!"_

_He didn't like that she was using actual words and creating coherent sentences._

"_eh? So what?" His fingers laced around the knife handle, eclipsing her hands in a warm yet suggestive grip. _

_He'd just have to change that._

_His teeth sank deeper into her skin as his fingers glided ever higher._

_A ripping pain, then what is this? A round disk of vegetable?_

_Thankfully the preordered blade was wedged into the cutting board, its menacing shape swaying from the force of impact._

_The pain was radiating from his left foot. Her ankle was to blame. _

_Thank God_

_With a delayed yelp he scrambled back, clutching his throbbing big toe._

_Still red, Maka plucked the knife from the abused cutting board and resumed slicing their dinner._

_Soul pealed the morsel of egg plant from the frontal lobe of his skull._

_He glared at the slice of said vegetable in disgust. _

"_In-the-name-of-all- that-is-holy? What is-?"_

"_It's dinner, Soul. Since you were so 'distracted', I decided for you"_

_She managed a complete poker face._

_He couldn't tell though, her back was the only thing he could see. _

_But he could feel it, he could hear it._

_That's all that mattered. _

_How dare she . . . _

" _stick-up-her-ass-bitch"_

"_what was that?"_

"_I hate egg plant"_

_His fingers pinched the offending piece of soon-to-be dinner. His fingers jabbing it with a vengeance, like a child poking at a dissection experiment with a scalpel. _

"_It's either that or nothing. Your choice."_

_Again with the high and mighty attitude._

_Soul, growling in utter horror as she began slicing its twin, stalked out of the kitchen like a dog had nipped at his heels. _

_A scowl painted his face, he swore he heard a soft giggle, snapped around to retort; but calculated his odds wouldn't bare much fruit. _

_She was making dinner and she was surrounded by a plethora of sharp objects._

_Any, he discovered, she could wield with fatal precision._

_As Maka had once put it _

"_I will __**END**__ you" _

_**She was favoring that threat lately.**_

_And it sounded like she would __**never **_**stop **_using it. Then again she could just demonstrate her lethal demands._

_But death by "More than 10,000 solutions to the meaning of life" wasn't exactly the ideal (and last) instrument he'd wish to see._

_His dream was to die from a cardiac arrest as he experienced sex that could create super novas. Then proceed to collapse on the woman he was screwing, leaving her utterly confused as his body lay happy on top of the her._

_All in that order._

_Yep, every man's dream._

_Well, his at least._

_Black*Star asked if they could make it a four some._

_Yep, he liked the idea too. This __**is**__ Black*-I-AM-the-bosses-BOSS!-Star, after all._

_Hooker or not, it was going to happen._

_That or he'd die in a hail of bullets._

_Soul's fingers spun his dog tags as the chain bit into his neck._

_Yeah, that would work too._

_A whiff, it was hot, the sizzling of frying food whispering from the kitchen._

_There was rice; he could smell the rice cooker from his "thrown"._

_It smelled decent, but then again it __**was **__egg plant._

_Dammit. _

_He'd get her back. _

"_If you want take out-"_

_Maka was tipping the pan on its axis, Oil and floppy slices of eggplant pouring into an over flowing rice bowl._

"_-then order it"_

_Mind reader, the woman was a freaking mind reader._

_Taking the initiative, Soul spun on his heels and made a B-line for the largest drawer in the kitchen._

_Before Maka could pass him, he leaned down and planted a quick kiss on her cheek._

"_Thanks babe"_

_Her opposing cheek was plump with rice._

_She nearly dropped her bowl of food._

_She was left flustered, red, and blubbering as she plopped down on the couch._

_He grinned as he yanked open the ever intimidating drawer, snatching up a Mandar-inn menu._

"_Seriously? You should be used to this by now"_

_Soul mumbled as he mindlessly punched in the number. The dial rang as he waited patiently for someone to pick up. _

_He couldn't hold back an explosion of laughter as a retort echoed from the living room._

"_shut up! and order me some dumplings!" _

**Flashbacks, glorious flashbacks.**

"soooo, you're essentially playing a game of chicken?"

"sounds 'bout right"

"with sex? 

a loud smack, with bubbling swears elevating from the floor.

"not even close"

"don't you mean 'not yet'?"

A glass mug made a very pleasant chiming as the bottom snuggled itself into the crown of Black*star's boisterous head.

He just had to go there.

But now that He'd mentioned it, they were traveling down that path.

A very dark path.

A path that involved an over protective father, who **should **be spending some quality time with his off-spring, committing pre-meditated murder.

He could imagine it now.

Spirit Albarn wielding a machete eight sizes too big to be deemed legal in the United States of America, pointing it at a very sensitive area that Soul would prefer to keep.

But no.

He was probably held up in some sleazy hotel In La Paz; Mexico, indulging in every red light district that would let him through the door. Back or front.

Was the old man even mentally capable of smuggling himself into Mexico?

Well he pulled it off, God only knows how, but he'd done it.

"God- damn man, throw a friend a bone here"

"you went there, so stop bitching"

"bite me-, wait, you're not actually thinking about-"

Black*star might be oblivious, but he wasn't stupid.

"I'm not! Things just- I don't know! They just-"

The muscles in Soul's neck ached, the bud light bottle felt crisp on his forehead.

He sighed, the cold glass creating a red ring on his frontal lobe.

"-things just got out of hand"

For lack of a better term.

"Her father's gonna castrate your ass" For once Black*Star might be right.

"I haven't done anything yet!" like he doesn't know that!

"No, but you will. Right buddy? Ol' Black*Star won't be there to save your ass when Shit hits the fan"

"what will you do? Arrest me?"

"well , she's a minor isn't she?"

"wow, you actually learned something at the academy? "

"like you did. You were in the same sinking boat as me, dipshit!"

"At least I was plugging up the wholes!"

"you god-damn liar"

"no, but in all seriousness, you can at least give me one favor?"

"Fine, mortal. State your plea"

_**Self righteous ass-whole**_

"I want _**you **_to arrest my ass, not Kid, not Patricia, fuck not even Albarn, make. It. **You**."

"Wait Patricia? The chick with the biggest damn boobs they have their own orbit?"

"yep"

"dude, I'd hit that" Soul's tongue scoped the neck of the bottle, lapping up the remaining droplets of his barley remedy.

"I'll call her up"

"For the 'best way to die' thingy?"

"no shit genius"

"Good god, you want her bad, don't you?" A bottle levitated toward the ceiling fan clicking above, a threatening scowl reminded Black*Star how his best buddy was never the type of person some random civilian would walk up to to ask for directions.

Another sip, bottles empty, Black*Star waved away the beer, and motioned for two glasses of Southern Comfort.

Time to get down to business.

"So, about Ms. Jailbait-"

"Maka"

"what?" The scowl was back.

"Her name's Maka"

"Okay then, about Ms. Jailbait. You need to be more alert."

"You saw them too?"

"Yep, we've got a problem."

"Is it about?-"  
"-Asura? Nice instincts their Soul Eater"

"Shut it and give me Intel, I hate being left out in the cold"

"Wait, really? You brand being contacted constantly being left in the cold?"

"Black*Star-"

"Fine, fine Jesus, okay! For starters, you've got a watch on you, but you've already figured?"

"tell me something I don't know. Next"

"ooooh now that's classified"  
"when the fuck did anything become 'classified' with you? You scream shit off of rooftops for Christ sake. . . no offense"

"None taken, since Kid shoved a very pointy pen and my career in my face, mumbling that if I said anything concerning this-"Ice cubes clanked within the whiskey glass as they swept over Soul's torso.

"-I would find myself the first sheriff of Wanatooga"

"Where in God's name is wakachubaka?"

"Wanatooga, and I don't know. Get my point?"

"How could I not?"

"Take this as a friendly warning."

Black*Star slapped the whiskey glass downward, almost imbedding it into the glossy wood bar. A 50 balanced on the rim.

"Keep close to Maka Albarn, don't let her out of your sight"

"so she's-"

"-yep she's in his black book"

A pause, very long, too long actually.

Black*Star liked them though; He used them in interrogations.

It drove suspect's nuts.

It's a habit that won Black*Star his reputation.

He felt like he was planted in an unwelcoming metallic cafeteria chair that was meant for preschoolers. The whiskey tasted stale on his tongue, the burning sensation that used to give him solace morphed into a strong urge to vomit and choke.

It was like Black*Star had landed him on the hot seat.

"shit"

"Well at least you aren't the only one, the Freak Russian- What's his name again?"

"_**Asura**_" the name slid bitterly from his tongue, more so than his whiskey.

"wait, why is she?-"

"You might want to consult her old man, 'bout that"

Of course.

He was going to impale the old man, smother him with lighter fluid, then roast marshmallows over his sizzling corpse.

The glass quivered within Soul's iron grip. It threatened to shatter as visions of those S.O.B's shoving Maka into a van and committing many a crime that would earn them the death penalty.

All because some sorry excuse for a parent couldn't break an adulterous habit.

And where was her mother in all of this?

The woman hadn't even called for Christ sake!

She knew the address and phone number, Spirit had informed Kami the day Maka was dumped on his door step.

Maka didn't deserve that.

She deserved so much more.

That was what was making the glass ready to explode.

His anger bubble and hiss.

How dare he involve her!

"Your pretty protective of her aren't'cha?"

The glass slipped from Soul's palm, safely bouncing onto the counter top.

An exhausted chuckle warmed his throat. The suffocating urge to scream his frustrations morphed into something far more pleasant.

He really did. He truly cared about the girl.

"You don't know the half of it."

Black*Star stuffed his wallet back into the warmth of his coat pocket. He didn't have the slightest clue what was occurring inside Soul's "bachelor pad", but whatever it was, it was for the better.

The man smiled more, as scary as that sounded.

His scowls were minimal, and his smiles were actually legit, not the ones that would make babies cry and children wet the bed at night from nightmares. They were real, with warmth seeping through each crease between each arrow-head chiseled tooth.

He was flirting less too.

Black*Star grinned, but kept his mouth shut.

Now that had to account for something, didn't it?

The intake of his breath was sharp, the whoosh of disturbed space and the soundtrack of the city made it clear to Maka that Soul had returned home.

Her socks vigorously dug into smooth flooring, determined to catch the cop off guard. Her heels rose and toes pushed, her legs became substitute for mattress springs as she flew forward.

Soul stumbled back in his attempt to break Maka's leap of faith.

With a grunt, Soul's hips bumped into the extending kitchen counter top. The back door simultaneously swinging shut in the process.

A deep sigh, Maka's fingers bunched his leather jacket. The smell of Southern Comfort, drags from the occasional cigarette, and old spice.

She welcomed them, imprinting each separate scent into her memory.

Soul stood there in moderate fascination and bewilderment.

Of all the things she could have done, hell just a few words would have summed up their exchanges, she had to pull something like this?

A platinum eye brow slid low, its twin committing the opposite.

Her nose and cheeks rubbed his white tank top, creasing the fabric like a cat twisting itself around someone's leg, purring all the while.

"Welcome home" it was soft, a very fragile greeting, but it was sweet.

Succumbing through a freak realization that nothing painful or what possibly could be considered as child pornography (dubbed by any outside source who had no idea the rules for "the game") was going to happen, Soul relaxed his hands and curled his arms around the circumference of her shoulders and back.

This he could get used to.

But this display of affection would take time to get used to. Maka's hugs were as allusive as Sasquatch; they technically didn't exist. *

The only moments that he could peg as examples were when they went on a horror film binge; it took a crow bar and the threat of a blow torch to pry her off of him. Another, when she encircled herself around him like a boa constrictor, turned out she was attempting to get the remote.

To comfort, or distract. Either way, they were sparse.

Her hugs were an endangered species, but maybe it was a comfort issue. He never really made any physical contact either, but the game was mixing things up.

Her hair tickled his chin, his hands sweeping over her back in soothing strokes.

This was probably her way of displaying her trust.

In her own . . . unique sort of way.

He scoffed when he caught her rubbing her nose on his shirt, for the 2nd time that evening.

"Oi! What am I? A walking tissue box?" Her chin was warm against his chilled thumb and pointer finger.

Eyes connected, breath mingling.

"well, your hair _**is **_white" Her smile was a drop of succulent sunlight, his gentle laughter calm as a patient snow storm.

"you cheeky brat" A rush of blood, the noise of an upset driver fading. The graceful lull of a well played piano hummed down hallways and weaved between rooms.

"wha' am I-" Their noses touched, her cheek smooth and pleasant against his palm.

"-gonna do with you" a spark, lips touch, the attention grows. Everything evaporates, just for this one moment they existed for each other.

She wasn't the daughter of his former partner.

Their breath ragged, lungs needy and raw.

He wasn't the cop that she was forced meet.

She was Maka-

A hushed shriek, the cold counter top surprising her as her butt slapped its smooth surface.

-And he was Soul.

Her nimble fingers danced over tense scalp and shoulder blades. The white noise in his ears filtered her gentle answers of what was acceptable and what was crossing the line.

His hands cupped and squeezed her butt; He received a strangled gasp that morphed into a deranged hiccup.

Acceptable or not, he did it again. This time with less choke and more squeeze.

His jacket was gone, God only knows where, but no Fucks were being given.

It was getting pretty damn hot, He felt like a slice of bacon being stir fried.

Next order of business, why was her shirt still on?

Maka cooed his name as Soul's teeth laid siege to her neck and collar bone. The amount of love bites would be staggering, Judging by how many times she had flinched whenever a to-sharp-of-a-tooth creeped a little too close to her jugular.

Her fingers danced over tense jaw muscles and scalp, disturbing the fragrance of old spice that bombarded her senses.

Foreign air rushed over Maka's skin as her shirt magically went missing. Her blush dripped from her face down to her neck.

Her nails sliced through his shirt, her knuckles numb, with anticipation and-

her eyes slammed shut as his tongue guided one of her bra straps between his canines.

-fear.

In an instant the warmth of Soul's hands abruptly vanished from her bum. Instead they were kneading into granite.

Startled, yet still a wee bit "drunk", Maka nudged the cop's shoulders.

His chin and nose fit perfectly at the curve of her neck, like a long lost puzzle piece.

His breathing was harsh, yet it was like he was in extreme pain, but refused to screech his discomfort.

After three deep intakes, Soul's intentions were made clear.

"phleaf"

"w-what? English, Soul, please"

"**Leave**. now. Before I do something very, _**very **_illegal . . . _**please**_"

Maka just sat there, her mind murky and quickly clearing up.

"Wait. Did you just say plea?-

"**NOW, bookworm**!"

"y-yes!" Maka slipped off the counter, swiveled from under him, and proceeded to make her escape.

The fabric of her shirt masking her bra and breasts.

Soul just stood in the kitchen, alone, the thumping of all too quick footsteps dissipating behind him.

The moment the bathroom door slammed shut, a whoosh of air hissed from his mouth.

Soul growled and slammed his fist into the counter top.

In all honesty, he wanted to cry.

He seriously wanted to cry, then set alight his conscience for detonating a deliciously perfect opportunity.

His jeans felt a bit too tight and he was too horny to keep his "cool guy persona" in perspective.

If Maka ignored her "virgin instincts" and walked into the kitchen at that moment, he would probably bend her over the nearest (and sturdiest) object and bang her cervics into next Tuesday.

And that's a given.

_God damn, I want her soooo bad_

The next question would be-

-_would she even let me?_

It became awkwardly clear that Soul needed a cold shower, an ice bath shower.

Wait, no that wouldn't work.

But it's not a bad idea-

Stop! Now! No! Comments from dirty minded peanut gallery are not allowed!

Uhhh he needed to leave, big time.

As he was about to pivot and run for all he was worth, Soul became vaguely aware of the erection partying in his pants.

Well that was slightly embarrassing.

A feral growl followed several inaudible, yet gorgeously improvised, curses danced throughout the apartment.

Maka flinched when a harsh slamming noise traveled through the walls, it was Soul and he'd probably just slammed his fist into the wall, again.

Her blush clashed with the ice water raining down from the shower head.

She was going to soak until her lips were dyed blue.

Soul would probably do the same.

Patient hands held a pair of military issue binoculars in place. Their eyes turned to the window of 406B, Identification papers of Both Soul Eater Evans, And Maka Albarn, lying flat on the sleek onyx dash board.

"Zat Zem?" Two men in sketchy black over coats idly nibbled on foreign pastries, patient, waiting for the right time to strike.

One of the men's mouths was crammed with food, as crumbs of sweet bread fly from his puggy lips. He looked as round as the donut he was devouring. His friend's eyes were glued to the lenses of each scope; He chuckled as Soul danced around the apartment in utter sexual frustration. Unlike his chunky partner, he was as thin as a telephone wire.

"Da" The binoculars vanished, the skinny man's hand revving the engine of their coal black Benz.

"Now to tell ze boss" the fat one mumbled, stuffing another donut down his meaty throat.

His partner "of few words" chuckled.

"Da"

**Well there :3 you've all been waiting since June right? or was it July? :/ *head shot* . . . well there u go please rate and review my darlings :D your beautiful comments fuel my passion for writing :3 Till then, see you next time ;D and btw, I do believe in bigfoot ;3**

**~wildchild911 peace out**


	9. plant taxonomy

Well, college has sucked the life from me, but I finally found time for this. I'm a puddle of apologies right now. I was curious to see when I last updated and I turned white as a sheet.

My sincerest apologies. Also thank tumbler with the fanart, It was like Adderall. . . . Seriously.

enjoy

"Ma'am?"

Maka jumped as the cashier gnawed obnoxiously on her bubblegum, each bubbly swallowing her face and blending with her hair.

"Oh! Yes, I'm sorry" Maka handed her forty dollars. "Kim", as the nametag proclaimed, gave a bored sigh as she mechanically punched buttons on the register and shoved the change into Maka's timid hands. Maka muttered a thanks as she strode out of the store, Kim gave a passive response, as she continued to chew her bubblegum like it was her day job.

Maka walked toward Soul, where he at outside, exhausted and tired of waiting. He grinned when she dropped half the groceries on his lap, giving a subtle hint for them to leave. Soul muttered an 'about damn time' before devouring a Krispy cream donut. Maka grinned remembering a certain cop and donut stereotype, Soul connected the dots when maka's eyes made this distracting sparkling thing whenever she laughed.

Maka giggled as he rambled on about low sugar and that he was hungry, she nodded deciding not to fight his rushed excuses. Her mind wondered as Soul polished off the last of his deep-fried dough. She watched him absently chew and swallow with a satisfied and undignified slurp, drool dripping from his strong jaw line.

Seeing Soul like this, like a content pup with his first milk bone, one wouldn't expect there to be a former navy seal buried deep inside. His looks were terrifying enough to where local children fled in utter horror, like their nightmares had manifested and ruined their peacefully innocent reality. He wasn't tame, but there was this impending darkness in his eyes whenever the military popped up.

The darkness she glimpsed, while watching a documentary about the Vietnam War, terrified her and shattered her resolve to ask questions.

But the more time Maka spent in his presence the sense of foreboding ebbed. The reminder of her father's flirtatious behavior, and that she was being targeted by Russian mafia due to being Spirit's last and closest member of kin, didn't have such a heavy effect on her anymore. Not to mention that if anything were to happen to her, her "papa" would _**lose it.**_

One needed not to be a cop to understand this; they only needed to see him with a photo of her when she was shy of 4 years, in her baby blue daisy dress, her hair tied in pigtails, and oblivious to her father's actions which led to her mistrust with anything remotely male.

Deep inside she wanted to press a reset button, to take her back, before she saw her mother's tears and knew **EVERYTHING**.

Actions reap consequences which lead her here, with this sharp toothed, white haired, ruby eyed hooligan who continued to cram his fingers into their groceries in order to sate his fathomless appetite.

Instead of just staring at Soul and giving him the sick satisfaction that she found it attractive how his jaw muscles tensed and relaxed as he chewed, Maka decided to study the stores as they passed them buy.

She was tired, her bladder was going to explode, and she was vaguely aware that she could still taste the lemonade she sucked down an hour prior.

"_So you're living with . . ." Liz allowed her thoughts to marinate as she organized her touchy adjectives into impeccable order. She allowed her company to stew for a minute before shoving her pina colada toward a certain man, as he received a smack on the back and another beer impacted down his esophagus. _

"_. . . . him? Right?" _

_Maka chewed on her bottom lip, shuffling for the right words to respond with. Even though she knew that no matter what she said, nothing would seem legitimate. _

"_y-yes" she was meek, timid, and intimidated, mostly from the size of their __**breasts**__ and not their soul scanning eyes. Patty leaned forward, her melons eclipsing the table top, her brow scrunched in-for once- serious thought. Maka __whimpered__ in mass discomfort as her chair tipped further back, but Patty kept forging ahead on a mission with absolutely no concern for Maka's personal bubble space. Finally within an inch from her nose, Patty stopped. Maka's left eye twitched. _

"_um, what?"_

_she was jammed into an MRI, and the scanner was Pattie's __**FACE**__. _

_Her toes were cramping from keeping her stable while halting the possibility of a concussion. Tsubaki cocked her head to the side as Maka's chair was leaning backward at a 50 degree angle._

_Slowly, a crumpled napkin made its way in front of Maka's face. Hasty lines in cheap purple pen connected to form a grade school perfect giraffe. Pattie's face cracked in half from her smirk as she giggled away from Maka's face. Liz sighed and flung her perfectly manicured hand into the air, nonchalantly waving for "Jerry" to send more lemonade and martinis top side. _

_Maka's nails dug into her chair, these women had their bases covered with interrogation skill. _

"_u-um sorry miss Maka, we are just curious of your. . . .- "They turned towards the bar again, where Soul choked on his Corona and seemed intent on impaling it into Back*Star's skull, as Kid distracted them with another offhand remark. _

"_- . . . __**circumstances**__" Maka whimpered, slammed her head against the table, and mumbled a prompt "I wish it was that simple" _

_The women smiled, but couldn't help but cringe. As a simple peace offering, they dropped the conversation like a rotting carcass; but Maka knew better. They would be back, hungry for more juicy gossip. _

_They weren't a bad bunch, as Maka's thin pressed lips untwisted themselves into a pleasant smile. She definitely wanted to meet with them again, if circumstance allowed for that to happen. Well, if all else failed, she could just cry Walgreens trip and meet them somewhere. _

_Soul, finally finding a break from Black*Stars intoxicated vice grip, peeked back to fair how his petite roommate was doing. She was smiling, that was a good sign. She even laughed when Patty sat very tall in her chair demonstrating a mutated explosion, every one of them laughed as Liz threw in the punch line. Patty's hands batted the air above as Maka sipped more lemonade, her laughter a pleasant distraction._

_The reprieve was shredded when Black*Star snagged the back of Soul and Kid's collars, forcing them backwards and onto the floor. The girls snapped back to their sprawled peers, Liz muttering to Tsubaki to keep her man in line. It was Tsubaki's turn to whimper "it's not that simple". The girls burst into a giggle fit as Soul wrestled with Black*star's arm and Kid threatening him with patrol. _

"Soo-"

Maka sampled the local graffiti sprayed on the smooth wall to her right, intent on classifying each color curving into complicated lettering. Soul shifted grocery bags between his fingers, to keep them from cramping. Giving up, she obliged Soul's attempt to get her attention and moved closer.

"hmm?"

The crackling of plastic shifted to his right, her meager bag shifted to her left.

"sorry 'bout draggin' ya along, they just really wanted to meet ya and they would get off my ass" Her pinky cautiously brushed his palm as his fingers constricted, locking her hand in sweet acceptance. He wasn't going to let go anytime soon either. A slight bloom of blush washed over her cheeks, her petit fingers melting into Souls hand.

Maka was touched, and stated that they were pretty cool, but the next time she met Blackstar she was going to punch him in the face. Hard. With a barstool. Soul chortled mentioning that Blackstar was a good friend, obnoxious, but a good friend.

Maka rested her head on his shoulder explaining, that the girls wanted to give her a tour of Michigan Avenue and State Street.

"you should go"

she said she would. As Soul's fingers decided to rub her wrist she lifted her head from his shoulder and squeezed his hand.

"your hands are like a venus fly trap" She muttered as a small smile wedged its way between the fibers of her scarf. Soul glanced down in earnest, raising an eyebrow. He received nothing but a gentle smile and a blush too cute to be considered legal. A subtle "twerp" slipped through Soul's teeth as he looked away, his lips sliding into a cool grin.

With a determined kick, the two huffed into the apartment. Soul settled the groceries on the kitchen counter, watching Maka waddle to the bathroom muttering "dang lemonade". The police officer organized the assorted fettuccini, Philadelphia cream cheese, and chicken breast to his roommate's pleasure, excited for chicken alfredo. He was more of a shrimp man, but the disgusted recoil on Maka's face proved otherwise. He grinned remembering when he lifted a red snapper to her face; she had squawked and fled the isle leaving behind a string of "ewws" in her wake.

She was back with a grateful look on her face, as she promptly booted him out of the kitchen, but not without a gentle peck on his dry lips as thanks. Soul savored the taste of lemon and sugar as his stiff back and shoulders molded into the scratchy fabric of the couch. Resisting the urge to literally drool over Maka's shoulder while she prepared dinner, Soul flipped through mindless channels waiting for something to pique his interest.

"On Demand" became the best option as cream cheese sizzled in a pan, followed by chicken broth. Specks of garlic and green onion simmered in the thickening sauce, while Maka measured the temperature until the burner's flames were a whispering essence. It was a recipe her grandmother concocted and preached to her only grandchild, seeing as her daughter was married to her work.

Content with the petite bubbles erupting from the sauce's surface, she joined Soul on the couch, programing an alarm into her phone to remind her of the sauce. She snuggled up to his side as "Italian Job" became their movie of choice. Souls arm rested on her side, shifting the fabric of her sweater dress.

A commercial gave Soul a chance to glance down, giving him a front row seat to the crack between her cleavage. His inspection was halted when two delicate fingers snuck under his chin and pushed his face up and away from her chest.

"Find something interesting?" He was lost in her eyes for a second, before they swept down over her stocking clad calves. He chuckled as Maka's poked him in the cheek, confused by the silence. She started scrambling away from him when a smug smirk snaked across his face, but his arms pulled her to his lap and chest. She squirmed and giggled with fruitless results as Soul hugged her tighter, nibbling on her neck and ear relentlessly.

He could feel everything through her dress, the cotton ruffling his long sleeved shirt. It frightened him how well she fit, perfectly snug against him with her warmth saturating his chest. The distinct scent of roses was everywhere and his brain was short circuiting.

He was losing control as he lifted her chin, drunk off of some freak rosy incense that was only known to him. Maka accepted his advance with unrivaled gusto, making her question her own sanity. Soul could feel it now, a burning impulse, taking him away in bliss as tongues and teeth fought with one another. Maka knew that this was the dangerous path that her mother talked about and her father fought with whiney childlike denial to guard her from. But she had more pressing matters to attend to such as how Soul's hands love to roam and squeeze her butt.

Eager arms locked around sturdy shoulders, the edge of her maroon sweater dress dancing scandalously up her thighs. Experience fingers demolished her pigtails and her sanity with each gasp for oxygen or hesitant nibble.

Soul was shaking, badly, as his fingers dug into her back, unlatching buttons in an excruciatingly slow pace. He was drowning, drunk in disbelief, this was actually happening. In the back of his brain he knew, unfortunately, that this could lead to disaster. It was a horrifying bliss that no other woman had yet to press upon him.

The Casanova was falling Maka mused her lips were bruised, swollen, and lonely as the distinct sound of ripping cotton reached her ears. Maka had a feeling that Soul wasn't a very patient man, His hands guiding the ripped fabric of her dress down her spine, revealing her creamy shoulders and bra.

Soul chuckled at Maka's fussing, her gentle pushing as she explained that _i-I caaaahhhhhh do it my s-s-self_ His teeth marring her neck and collar bone in the meantime. Soul growled in disdain at her white and lacy bra, plucking it open to savor the sensitive and plump flesh beneath. She was in the process of trying to cover herself as he greedily sucked her left breast into his mouth.

She swore she heard him mutter that he preferred "meager cleavage", but the comment was lost as her brain continued to melt into a paste. Her back bent to a crescent curve, her eyes bursting with god-only-knows-what. Her back balanced in one hand, her head cradled in another.

Maka continued whimpering encouragements as she pushed his jacket from his shoulders, hell bent on getting him just as naked as she. After lavishing ample attention to Maka's "dismal assets", as he once declared them, an idea crept itself forth. It was too soon to claim her completely, but what if he could give her a taste of what was to come?

Maka could feel the dangerous grin peel itself across her chest, as he kissed the top of her right breast. Soul sucked on her bottom lip as he moved from the couch, pushing Maka against cushions. Flipping through strategies like he would change channels on a radio, Soul hooked his index figure into her boy shorts and pulled them down her thighs.

Fear had never slammed her so hard as he looked up at her with such focused eyes.

"S-Soul?" The kiss wasn't so much rough as it was desperate reassurance. He fixed Maka to the sitting position facing toward him, as a hand lifted one of her knees.

"Relax love, I don't move that fast-" his explanation was cut short when her arms curved around his neck, pulling him in another kiss. When she separated, her chest heaving, he knew that this was going to be one hell of a wild ride. Soul's knees felt boney and hard as they dug into the wood floor, he rested both of Maka's knees on his shoulders and lifted the hem of her dress.

Maka wasn't stupid, she had an idea of what he was doing, but this was too much for her to bare. She whimpered as Soul bestowed a kiss on each of her thighs, she thought she heard a rough "hold on tight" before everything went white.

"Soul Eater" was living up to his name as he properly taught Maka the right way for a man to please his woman. He chuckled when he realized the suffix of housemate was left out as he licked her slit like one would lick a lollipop.

"I wonder how many licks it would take-" Maka huffed as her fingers dug into his scalp, Realizing that his face was between her thighs and she was doing nothing to stop him. He didn't even finish his sentence as he "got comfy" and resumed a well overdue, meal savoring each twitch and reaction the "twerp" above him let loose.

Maka was having a hard time, breathing was becoming a chore and everything was pink and soft and- sweet Jesus-! Maka yelped when he bit into the side of her thigh, taking a light reprieve in order to prolong his play. She was still fifty shades too red to swat him as he waggled his eyebrows and disappeared between her thighs. She almost laughed, Soul was like a scuba diver on his first trip to a reef, he sucked her clit and she whined, Maka just prayed there were no sharks around.

Oh wait.

She whimpered when he added a finger and resumed his spelunking adventure.

There was one.

His razor sharp teeth nibbling her clit like it was a five course meal.

Right between her legs.

He intended to savor it too, with Maka just gasping and moaning all kinds of melodies and symphonies that his brain decided it was the only music score it could adore. A crescendo started to build, proving that she was pretty close. With one final swipe of the tongue Maka Albarn let lose, allowing her climax to rip through her limbs.

Soul heard his name and with that was content as he pulled two dripping fingers from her center and licked them clean.

In the meantime, Maka was trying to program herself back to a normal pace, not like she was having a heart attack or anything serious. After finishing his clean up, Soul stole a kiss, and swiped his fingers one last time for good measure. Maka arced her back then crashed back onto the cushions, still panting and fumbling with the fact that Officer Soul Eater Evans, number 529, had eaten her out, on the couch.

Soul, appreciating his work, muttered a quaint "thanks for the meal", decided to answer his smartphone; leaving Maka on her own to soak in the last 7 minutes. He decided that the kitchen would serve as a good conversation spot, seeing as his boss was on the other line. Kid, disgruntled, muttered that he'd called once a minute, muttering that if Soul wasn't going to pick up his phone; he should at least open it on the eighth ring.

"did you call just for that or is there an actual punch line for the joke?" Soul looked back at Maka who was just sitting there not correcting herself, but looked to be very confused, very miffed, and utterly concerned.

"very funny wise ass, tell me, are you sure you're not a masochist?, because you seem to beg for paper work." Soul, not one for taking threats lightly, leaned his head out of the door way into the living room.

"oh come on, It wasn't that bad, quit bitchn' and get over it"

For that, Maka snapped out of her reflective bout of "hejustatemeoutrighthere onthecouchsweetbabyjesus", and threw a pillow at him when she heard the deputy chief mutter an "I beg your pardon?" Soul watched her wobble away, chuckling whenever her thighs rubbed together, causing Maka to flinch with every step she took.

Maka was coming into a new mind set as she replaced her dripping boy shorts with a fresh pair, fingering the lace that Tsubaki and the Thompson sisters had shoved into her face, like a strange sort of good luck charm and their personal way of backing her and Soul's demented and increasingly sexual relationship. Her mind was reevaluating the man's position on her relation like totumpole, and she did not like how high his name was placed on the ladder.

Did she like him? Probably.

Did she find him attractive?

She peeked around the bathroom door after hearing a sneeze, she was given a vision of a six pack and hip bones as he lifted the hem of his white shirt to his face. After a pause, she dunked her head in the sink switching the faucet to "IhavealadybonerFIXIT!" setting.

In the words of Liz Thompson, Soul "Eater" Evans was D.I.V.I.N.E. and Maka had to admit it, she was right.

But did he like her?

Well she was legal now, so was this just new territory for him to explore or was there something else? Before she could really explore her options that dug up old scars and sore emotionally exhausting family wounds, there was a quick rap at the bathroom door.

Maka towel fluffed her hair and reminded the man outside that the door was unlocked. As Soul pushed the door wide open, they decided to just stare at each other. There was no "looking into each other's soul" or anything as they just stood there, but the air turned a little heavy as they watched each other. Both could feel something, but the time just wasn't right to bring those feelings forth, but they were relieved that neither side felt any sort of regret.

Despite the stoic top coat, both were worrying about the "issue" with their own set of questions.

"Got a call, said there was a break in a case" Soul stayed perfectly still with a cool look on his face.

"the one with the gangster, what's-his-face?"

"the one who I'm protecting you from? Pretty much, yeah"

Maka continued to fluff her hair, despite being completely dry. Realizing that she was using his towel, Soul smiled then, honest to God smiled. None of that shit eating crap that he gave to everyone else; this was an honest to god, real life, caring expression.

Something snapped.

"Soul" Deep breath, she was going to break the forth wall.

"yeah?" and their it was, the gentleness in his eyes. That calm that she only read about in books and was never present between her parents. The word "attachment" sprang up too fast for her to accept; and with that thought her courage vanished.

"n-never mind" He could see it all, the lack of trust, viewing him with red hair and blue eyes, stumbling home with a new woman every night, and swimming in deceit and empty apology. The moment crumbled faster than Kami and Spirit Albarn's marriage. He saw a little girl who just wanted to witness a vaguely pleasant moment between her parents. A girl who wished her mother was around and that her father would understand that the thing between his pants wasn't a part of his central nervous system.

In that moment he saw a shitily repaired wall that was finally beginning to leak its secrets.

He began mumbling that he could see the gears in her head start to turn when he was reminded of Kid's OCD, and that if he didn't leave now, there would be blood flooding the office. Soul grunted, ruffled Makas overly fluffed head in silence, walked out of the apartment, and locked the kitchen door.

As Maka numbly sunk into the couch and flipped through random channels on the TV, Her brain went into overdrive. If she did well **LOVE** him, a womanizing-badmouth-narcissistic-wanna-be-cop, he had the right to know right? But what if he seriously didn't? The possibility of rejection flushed out flashbacks of her mother's tears, her father's pitiful apologies, and verbal matches that we loud enough to warrant a police officer knocking on their door.

Maka paused at Katherine Heigle, watching her dance through 27 weddings. She could still feel the pitiful sting of her neighbor's stares whenever she ventured out in public. Maka watched the T.V. screen with glazed eyes, jealous that real life wasn't as predictable as a screenplay. She sat and dazed, her mind constantly hacking away at her dilemma of what to even call their relationship.

Was their one there? Maybe, but was it a one-sided venture? Maka smothered her face into one of the couches pillows and wound herself into a tight and confused ball. As her brain continued to stew itself in a boiling pot of hypothetical ideas of why they were into each other, a soft rapping came at the back kitchen door.

Funny, she hadn't heard anyone come up the stairs. As Maka walked over to the door and unlocked it, she wondered if she was afraid of commitment as she stared down the barrel of a silencer, connected to an unregistered pistol. Her head spun as the reflection of two crows were distorted and curved with the pistol as light caught the safety and illuminated the hit man's jawline, his many piercings, and his greasy slicked back hair.

His mouth split in a shit eating smile like he was in on a ridiculous joke, problem was that he only one laughing was him.

"Your heads mine, ya twig"

After 3 years to end with a cliffy, methinks I've become a bit of a sadist

Review . . . . Please


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